Vitra te Ikran
by Tciddaemina
Summary: Pandora is the sort of planet to chew you up and spit you back out again if you let your guard down for even an instant. Waking up alone, confused, and with a blank spot where his memories should be, Harry has to step up and face the challenges this new world has to offer him. [Tsu'tey/Harry Potter. Slash. Slow burn. Magicless!Harry. Na'vi!Harry]
1. Prologue - Jake Sully

This is the **NEW VERSION** of Vitra te Ikran. If you're looking for the old version then have a look on my profile. You'll find it in my works easily enough.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and commented on my question earlier. It was really helpful! Generally this one follows in the same direction as the old version, though with new bits added and old bits changed. Some scenes, like the prologue, remain largely the same but have been tweaked a little - so don't be surprised if you see bits you recognize form the old version.

A warning to new readers: This is **SLASH**. You have been warned. Please don't send any messages complaining about it. If you don't like it don't read it. Any other response is childish, petty, and will be met with utter indifference. I _honestly, seriously, _do not care if you don't like slash or have some other deep personal problem with my writing. Suck it up and read something else.

Moving onto a more positive note - I hope you guys enjoy the story. Since writing it I've been feeling a lot more confident in my writing style and have been having a lot more fun writing this version than I did the first. I just hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As always if there's anything that stands out that you particularly liked, or any areas you think could use work please don't hesitate to leave a comment. In fact I encourage you to. There's nothing better as a writer than hearing people like your work, even more so when you say which bit you liked. Don't be shy! I love to hear from you guys.

Enjoy! And have a happy festive season!

* * *

"Let's run through them again," Grace said, shoving holo-pad in front of his face for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last two days. Jake rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway. He grabbed for the pad, but Grace held it out of reach, only bringing it back down when he lowered his hand. She thrust it back in front of him, flicking her fingers across the screen and bringing up the image of stern faced Na'vi.

Neytiri's mother frowned at him from the picture, looking as ill humored and grumpy as ever. What was her name again? She was the shaman or something, yeah? "Mo'at. The dragon lady."

Grace pulled back the holo-pad, summoning up the next image. Jake felt like he was playing the alien edition of guess who, only this time the stakes were diplomatic relationships with an alien race. No pressure at all. He glanced at the picture, recognizing it immediately.

"Atucan," Jake said after a moment's hesitation. He doubted Grace would accept 'cheif guy' as an answer. She'd probably skin him alive for even thinking it. Grace was funny that way.

"_Eytukan_. Hes the clan leader, but she's the spiritual leader. Like a shaman."

"Okay, okay. I got it."

Grace scowled, flicking her cigarette and breathing out an irritated whisp of smoke. She was only missing fangs and some scales and then she'd be a veritable dragon herself. "Well, you won't have it if you call him that to his face. Names are important, especially to the Omaticaya. Mess it up and half the clan won't talk to you."

"And the other half?" He asked, more to piss her off than because of any real interest. Grace was one tough piece of work but as long as you didn't fuck around and mess up her science she wouldn't to more than chew you out a little. Usually.

Grace just looked at him. And yep, there you go. You could tell she was about a second away from throwing the pad at his head for his idiocy.

"You don't want to know what the other half of the clan would do. You haven't got many friends there, Marine." She said bluntly. Grace took another drag of her cigarette. "Now enough with the dumb questions. Let's get on with it."

Jake rolled his eyes. He rolled to a stop beside the pod, beginning the complicated process of hauling himself. Grace moved as if to offer him a hand but he waved her off, receiving a holoppad shoved in his face in response. Jake glanced at it, grabbing the material of his trousers and hauling his legs up into the pod.

That one was easy, the guy hated his guts. If he had anything to worry, it was this guy. Jake had no doubt the he'd would sooner stick him full of arrows than even look in his direction. "Tsu'tey."

"_Tsu_'tey." Grace corrected, scowling.

"_Tsu_'tey." Jake parroted obediently.

"He'll be the next clan leader." Grace said, loading the next picture. Neytiri. She was younger than she was now by at least a year. He grabbed the holo-pad, bringing it closer. It was a beautiful picture, there was a rare smile on her face as she talked to someone off screen, an expression he'd only seen once or twice in real life.

He couldn't help but smile a little, her name rolling of his tongue easily. "Neytiri."

Grace made an affirming noise. "She'll be the next Tsahik after Mo'at. She and Tsu'tey would have become a mated pair if it hadn't been for Isonali."

"Who?" Jake said, dragging his legs into the right position. Every time he came back his body felt even more restricting. It was like that first year stuck in the wheelchair after the accident all over again. He couldn't wait to get back to the village, back into his avatar, where he he could actually move, run, even just being able to stand on his own two feet without needing people to help him.

Norm leaned on the end of the pod, hanging around just to watch Jake suffer, he reckoned. He scoffed at Jake's question. Evidently someone was still in a bad mood. "Isonali te Hufwe. Or Isonali of Wind. He's the clan's top flyer and aerial hunter. Best they've ever had. The Omaticaya say he has the soul of an Ikran, thats how good he is. You'd know this if you'd had _any_ training."

"Who's got a date with the chief daughter?"Jake smirked, enjoying Norms put upon scowl. He was still bitter about Jake getting an in with the clan while he and the other avatars, you know, the proper scientists, were still banned from entering Omaticaya territory. He'd get over it eventually, or Grace would kick his ass for sulking round like a kid while on the job.

"Anyway what'd he do?" He turned to Grace, ignoring Norm. A dark thought creeping into his mind. "He's not engaged to Neytiri or something, is he?"

Grace just _looked_ at him, the sheer intensity of how unimpressed she was was astronomical. And alright, fair enough, he wasn't a genius like his brother, but how the hell was he supposed to know all this shit? He'd only been hanging out with the Omaticaya for a couple of weeks and most the time Neytiri was trying to teach him every single skill she could down, practically cramming their clan histories down his throat in an effort to get him up to standard. It didn't leave much time for random chit-chat with the clan, and even if there was he doubted he could get more than five Na'vi combined to talk to him. Most of the clan was beyond apprehensive at his presence and some, mostly Tsu'ety's faction, were outright hostile.

"So?" Jake prompted, undeterred.

Grace fiddled with the pod controls, prepping it for activation. She rolled her eyes and sucked on her cigarette, exasperated. "No, he's not engaged to Neytiri."

That Jake felt a wash of relief at her answer probably wasn't a good sign. "Then what did he do?"

"Ask him yourself." Grace said, "Now lets go, village life starts early."

He took the hint and settled into position, letting her bring down the monitoring frame, flickering lights and cables and all. A push of a button set the lights flashing, the frame whirring gently as the device went to action monitoring his body while his mind was away. Glancing over to make sure everything was in place Grace tapped at the pod console, pulling up the activation sequence.

Just before the lid came down Grace paused, hand slapping down on the side of the pod.

"Don't do anything unusually stupid." She ordered. There was a threatening gleam in her eye that left him with no trouble imagining just what she would to to him if he bungled up their one chance of getting back in favor with the clan.

Jake grinned and reached up a hand, giving the pod lid the small tug it needed slide closed. He was enclosed in a world of green foam for the few seconds it took Grace to finish activating the pod and send his mind spinning out of his body and through the link to his avatar.


	2. Chapter 1 - He

He opened his eyes to a gradient of green and a lingering feeling that something was wrong.

He was in a jungle unlike any he'd ever seen. It stretched around him in a million shade of green and blue, gigantic tress reaching as high as the eye could see, arms laden with vines that hung down through the air, swaying, creeping plants bursting out in explosions of colour from high in the branches. The air was thick and hot against his skin, spicy with the taste of unknown flowers and sitting in his lungs with a foreign heaviness.

Flashes of movement could be seen in every direction. For a second he thought he caught a glimpse of something blue swinging high through the trees above but it was gone again before he could turn to look. Off to his left insects scuttled through the roots of a great tree, shiny shelled and glinting in a dazzling array of colour when they passed through the light.

When he went to push himself up he stopped, staring. Blue. His hands were blue. There were little stripes even, thick line of darker blue decorating his skin in subtle patterns. The colour was startling, but the hands were undeniably his. The colour sat on his skin with a unfamiliarity that was unsettling, surely it should be lighter than this?

A sound to his left make his ear flick - he pushed down another spike of panic. Sine when did his ears _flick_ in the direction of sounds? - and he levered himself off the ground, pulling himself up with the help of a nearby tree root. He didn't know where he was, didn't know who, or _what,_ was out there. It wasn't safe to just hang about in the open, not with-

Not with what? The thought teased at him, slipping out of his mind like smoke between fingers every time he tried to remember. Not with what?

He needed to find a mirror, something, anything. There were clouds in his head that weren't clearing, settling heavily over his mind in a storm of grey and black, shrouding his memory and sending his tumbling into confused disorientation.

His first few steps were clumsy and awkward. His balance was all off, and it only took a second to figure out why. He had a tail. He very purposefully turned his eye back forward and didn't think about it. He he could deal with that, with _all of this,_ in a moment.

He could hear the tinkle of flowing water in the forest not far away, and he made towards it, casting a curious eye the plants as he walked. They were strangely alive - growing at the base of a tree there were small polyps with vivid orange fans that swayed back and forth against push of the wind. They flinched when he came too close, quivering beneath a gentle touch and retreating entirely when he pressed a little too hard.

Some where less innocent than others, He circled around a particularly energetic plant with long pointed spines shook threateningly when he came too close, flat compressions along the leaves opening to reveal wicked thorns when he look at it too long. It was menacing, like something he'd see in-

He scrubbed his hands across his face, frustrated and confused. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember.

A little beyond the menacing plant was a small river that crept along the ground, trees opening around it to give it space. Water gathered in small clear pools in the dirt, tricking down from one to the next before in a lazy downhill flow. He crouched down, carefully stepping around the worst of the rocks, painfully aware of his bare feet. The water rippled, in small waves lapping across it's surface, and he leant over it, curious.

The face that stared back was unfamiliar as much as it was familiar. The sight of golden eyes, inclined with a feline tilt made him blink. Different, unfamiliar, in some cases entirely new. Additions to his body that felt out of place for all that they were his. He prodded at his teeth, grimacing. He had a second set of canines he wasn't quite sure should be there and many of the others felt unnaturally sharp against the pad of his finger.

When he tried to fall back on his reasoning he found himself grasping at thin air. He knew it was strange, knew it was somehow different than before, but _how?_ He tried to picture himself, what he _should_ look like but he came up blank.

Yet... the shape of his face was right, familiar, and the face undoubtedly his. He glanced away, dipping his fingers into the water, sending ripples that shattered the image of his reflection. The water was cool and clear against his fingers, and he cupped it in his hands, bringing it to his mouth.

The water was beautifully clean but... strange. Like the air it had a taste he couldn't quite name, somehow unfamiliar despite the fact he couldn't remember how it should taste, if not like this. It kept throwing him off. Everything was just slightly different from what he expected - just the sight of the strange four armed monkeys swinging their way high through the canopy had been enough to make him stop and stare, the sight of a great shadow flashing above the high treetops, like a bird but so much bigger, enough to send him springing for cover, alarmed for reasons he couldn't remember.

He sighed, dipping down for another handful of water. Ripples went out across the surface, distorting his reflection. Little white pinpricks stood out like stars on a night sky from the blue of his skin, seeming to almost dance across the gentle lapping of the waves. It was a nice thought, a calming thought, and it let him relax enough to consider that, perhaps, just perhaps it wasn't as bad as he had thought.

He froze with the water halfway to his lips, staring downstream. There was a creature downstream, head dipped and tongue lapping at the water. It was huge, had to be at least five meters head to tail, and was built like something from a nightmare - teeth bigger than his fingers and thick muscles swollen beneath its dark hide. Flexible plates extending from its skull and ending in long bare quills that moving back and forth, twitching with every breath.

It didn't seem to have seen him yet, and he held his breath, staying absolutely still. The creature was huge, its mouth opening to reveal teeth the side of his fingers and strong enough to crush bone as it lent down to lap at the water. If it saw him, if it got its teeth in him, he was dead.

Slowly, slowly, he dropped his hands, letting the water run silently back into the stream. He crouched, muscles tense, heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest, and inched back, not taking his eyes of the creature. The menacing tree was at his back, and it bristled at his approach. He couldn't care less. Between a prickly tree and _that,_ there was no choice at all.

The creatures quills stilled, twitching in his direction. He sucked in a breath, hands tightening in into the dirt. He hadn't made any noise, hand done anything, so how-

The creatures head lifted, golden eyes looking straight at him. He sucked in a breath. Oh, Merlin, fuck. He scrambled backwards. The first touch of the spines made him pause. The prickled against his skin, this faint touch already enough to draw violent red scratches across his skin.

The creature stepped forward, plates around it's skull flaring our, quills on the end shivering intently, one clawed foot dipped into the water, silent. He inched a little closer to the thorns, gritting his teeth when they bit into his skin, small barbs of pan bursting across his shoulders.

It prowled forward, closing the distance between them slowly. He could see its eyes. Yellow, poisonous yellow, fixed on him with a look that was distinctly assessing. The glint in its eye as it reached a decision was all the warning he got before is sprung forward, powerful legs launching it at him with the speeding and momentum of a raging dragon.

He threw himself backwards, scrambling beneath the thorny arms of the tree. It quivered at at his touch, spines bristling out. With one last shake the tree puffed out like a porcupine, firing its barbed thorns straight into the creatures face, while he, tucked by the smooth base of the tree beneath it's bristling arms, escaped with nothing more than a few scratches.

The creature yowled. The barbs had caught in it's flesh, tearing the skin and dribbling dark blood where it pawed at its, swiping with a paw to try and get them out. It wouldn't be distracted for long. Already it had managed to remove half the bards. As soon as it got them all, and maybe even before that, it would be after him again and this time the tree wouldn't be able to protect him. Its spines were spent and it was drawing its branches back close to its trunk.

He scrambled out the from the tree, making a break for it while he still could

A deep whispering part of his mind knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun it. It was too fast, too well adapted for the environment. And he was in unfamiliar terrain, exhausted and clumsy. He couldn't hide - even if he managed to get himself out of sight, it would find him. It had noticed him without looking at him, without him even making a sound.

No, hiding wouldn't work.

A rustle of leaves behind him was all the warning he got before it was upon him. Claws hitting the dirt only feet behind him. It snarled, and he threw himself out of the way of it's swipe. It's claws caught him along his side, dragging across his back and down his hips. He pressed a hand to it, gritting his teeth against the pain, and kept moving. He couldn't stop moving. It would be a death sentence.

He stumbled through a patch of long grasses and emerged face to face with a herd of monsters, grey skinned and built like bulldozers. They bellowed in agitation, bright fans opening in pink and purple above the great dangerous weight of their hammerhead horns. He didn't pause, running straight at them and ducking around their agitated rumbling. He heard rather than saw when they saw the creature, their bellows grew shrill and angry. They stamped their feet, bellowing, swinging their head threateningly.

The creature hissed, claws digging up the ground as it paced back and forth, it's own plates spreading in a warning display. This was a meeting of monsters, equally matched and more than capable of bringing each other down, if only they were to risk their own life doing it. He inched back, hoping to slip through the herd and away from the fight without drawing the herd's attention.

It's attempt to circle around was met with a bellow and stamping feet, that first bull charging without warning. The rest of the herd took up the challenge and as one threw themselves into charge, even the smallest trumpeting a war cry as they stampeded.

Despite his best efforts he got caught in the stampede, left to pushing himself recklessly out of the way of the massive bulk of the creatures bodies. Ducking out of the way of one's bone hammer send him into the path of another, and he bounced of it's side like a pebble against a boulder, gritting his teeth through a cry of pain as it jarred his wound. He was left stumbling, trying to evade the army of crushing legs as the creatures raged around him, throwing their heads back and forth in a relentless attack.

A single hit from one of those one ton heads would be enough to shatter bones, and he didn't want to think what would happen if he stumbled and got caught beneath the thundering press of their stout legs.

Behind him one of them bellowed with pain, and he had to lurch out of the way when the herd stampeded with renewed vigor, forcing the predator to leap out of the way, driven back by the combined might of their threat. He didn't waste time to watch the encounter finished, slipping out the back of the herd with a breath of relief.

He threw himself into a painful jog, mind racing. He needed to get somewhere out of reach, where it couldn't get him even if it saw him. The entire jungle seemed to have taken up the warning cry of the herd, creatures in the undergrowth clicking and chirping as they skittered to safety. High in the tree's creatures shrieking in agitation, and he looked up, noticing for the second time the sheer size of the trees - they stretched for dozens of meters into the sky, branches growing thick and long in all directions.

Up. He needed to go up. The sides of the trees were riddled with vines and creeping roots that descended from plants perching high above, growing like parasites down the skin of the tree's. They grew thick and strong around the trunks of the trees, even handing freely through the open air. He stumbled towards one, taking a hold of one of the parasite roots and hauling himself up.

His hands were bloody from holding his wounds, the vines slippery. He dug his fingers hard around them, pulling himself up the winding path of the vine, grabbing each new hold and hauling himself higher. In the distance he could hear the bellowing of the herd receding and he relaxed a little, taking a moment to gather his breath before reaching for the next branch.

The attack came without warning. In a terrifying snarl or teeth and claw the creature threw itself up the side of the tree after him. He was at a fair height, mostly out of reach, but that didn't stop it. It claws caught him along his leg, racking deeply down down his calf and across his heel as the creature tried to yank him down.

With a desperate lurch hauled himself higher, grabbling at the vines trying to get a foothold. His hands were shaking, his head spinning with the pain, face pale and chilled with a cold sweat, swearing. The world was blurring before his eyes are he fought to blink to the pain.

The vine. The vine. He needed the next vine. He had to go up.

He reached blindly, fingers brushing along the bottom edge of sometime and coming back empty. It was too far away. He couldn't- He was going to die.

No. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to look again through the hazy veil of pain. Properly look. It was slightly out of reach, yes, but not too far. He would be able to get it if he pushed himself. Below he could hear the creature prowling, pacing beneath the tree and snarling up at him every, waiting to see if he'd fall.

He sucked in a harsh, gathering his resolve. It would hurt, Merlin it would hurt so much - He cut himself off, acting before the thought developed and he lost his will. He grit his teeth, throwing himself to the side and jamming his injured foot into the next handhold. A shout forced itself through his teeth as for a moment he fought the blinding pain. Blindly he reached for the next vine, almost sobbing when he finally managed to take the weight off his leg.

It was a haze after that of pain and desperation after that. He had to use his injured leg again at one point, and he almost lost his grip, dizzy with the pain. When he finally hauled himself up into the cradling arms of the tree he he could no nothing but curl in the moss, clutching his leg and sobbing. Moving was excruciating, but not doing so was just as painful and it was a struggle just to grit his teeth and try to breath, not hold his breath and clench his fists as if that would somehow help.

Distantly he could feel blood weeping warmly down his leg, running down his leg in rivers of red that soaked the moss red and puddling in the cracks of the bark. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere dark and warm, sleep the rest of his life away and not even dream of the idea of pain. But he was still bleeding. Every moment the wounds were open he grew weaker, and if he lost too much blood there would be no turning back.

A little along from him there was a a cluster of plants growing on the branch, their long flat leaves weeping over the edges of the branch and into the open air. He look a breath He needed to-

He pressed his hand against the wound on his heel, tensing against the spike of pain. A deep breath again. Breath through it. He'll be okay. He just needs to breath through it.

\- put pressure on the wound. It would lessen the bleeding, give him more time. Okay. Okay. Next. What was next? He glance at the wound on his side, paling at the sight of the wet red visible through the jagged cuts. It wasn't bleeding much, blood starting to clot on the surface of the wounds. He couldn't quite turn to look at the rest of the scratches across his back but he could hardly feel them no, drowned out beneath the agony of his leg, so he settled for hoping that they were minor.

He sent a tentative glance at his foot and jerked away his eyes immediately. So much blood. He thinks he could see his muscles. His eyes were screwed shut, and he forced them open, looking back at the wound. It was better than he thought. It's claws had missed his tendons, barely, and he was breathlessly grateful that he couldn't see any bone.

He needed something to cover the wound, to hold it close and stop stuff getting in it. His eyes flicked back to the leafy plants, speculative. That... could work. It could be poisonous, could be covered in bacteria or Merlin knows what that could fuck up his wounds but frankly he didn't have much of a choice. He needed something to cover the wound before he passed out, or he would bleed out while unconscious. Already darkness was threatening the edges of his vision - he didn't have much longer.

The meter between him and the plants was torturous, and he crawled along at a snail pace, having to break every second moment to breath through the pain and wait for the dark spots to clear from his eyes. His fingers closer around one of the trailing leaves and he yanked it hard, ripping it from the base of the plant. It's texture was slightly rubbery against his fingers but it was flexible and bent without problem, and he wasted no time in tightly winding it around his ankle and calf like a makeshift bandage.

He pulled it as tight as he could, hoping that even if it couldn't stop the bleeding much, the pressure would help a little. The wound on his side would have to stay uncovered - he had no way of getting tying the leaves around his torso.

He didn't last long after that, only managing to drag himself a little closer to the plants, curling himself between two of them in the hope they would stop him from slipping off the branch while he was out.

He was sort of surprised to wake up. He'd known dimly that there was a strong chance, a very strong chance, that his wounds were too great and that he'd just slip off. So to actually wake up was a great relief.

For a long time he couldn't muster the energy to move, content to simply lie in the plants and doze a little longer. The pain in his leg had dulled to an angry throbbing, but he had not doubt the moment he so much as through about moving he would be doubled over in pain once more.

It was already sometime past midmorning and sunlight was filtering through the gaps trees, little beams dipping through the layers of green, purple and blue. He could see a different side of the jungle up here - with the crowded press of the undergrowth left far below. It was still incredibly vibrant, but in a different way, limited to the fewer plants that grew to such immense heights and those that hitched a lift along with them. The thick mosses that clung on the tree trunks in patches down below carpeted the tops of the branches up here.

He finally stirred when the aching hunger that had been growing in his belly peaked. He was ravenously hungry, his throat just dry enough to be noticeably uncomfortable. He weighed back and forth the idea of getting up an trying to find something to eat, deciding that moving would hurt like all hell but that he probably needed to get some food in him if he wanted his wounds to get any better.

Slowly he rolled himself over, groaning faintly at he tried to level himself to his feet. He managed an uncomfortable crouch, hands down trying to keep his weight off his injured leg. The throbbing had increased painfully as he started moving. He thought about trying to stand up, but he felt dizzy as it was and he didn't want to topple off the branch.

There was a curious chattering from above and he looked up to find a dozen pairs of golden eyes staring down at him through the greenery. Noticing they were spotted, several disappeared, leaving no trace but rustling leaves. Others, more bold, stuck their head out to get a better look, yellow and turquoise faces peering out at him curiously.

It's face was monkey like, its eyes large and intelligent. It was one of the creatures he'd spotted earlier swinging through the trees. It didn't look aggressive but he tensed none the less, waiting to see what it would do. He was weak, vulnerable. If it attacked he was in no position to defend himself. But it just blinked at him, cocking its head. With a happy chatter it disappeared back into the greenery, swinging away on its four long arms.

He watched it go, then sighed, turning back to the task at hand. It took him maybe half an hour to reach the end of the branch, where he paused, looking down thoughtfully at the meter drop between his branch and that of the next tree. The branches stretched out in a network high in the jungle, spreading out and crowing so that every tree touched each other, sometimes directly, sometimes connected by lines of vines that hung down from branch to branch.

There'd been a vine with bulbous yellow fruit at one point, but when he'd tentatively bitten into one he'd gagged, spitting it out. It tasted like something rotten and bitter, left too long out in the sun. He managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls but had to give up after that for fear of throwing it all up if he continued. Having a full stomach had helped, a little, before it he became violently ill and the threw it all up again. The feeling of nausea lingered for a couple of hours, leaving him queasy and uncomfortable and unwilling to eat anything else.

His watchers had returned at some point during his slow journey . They loped around in the branches above him, chattering to one another and watching him with golden eyes. He tired not to pay them much mind. They hadn't shown any signs of attacking. For the most part they seemed shy, tending to hide if they caught him looking.

He shuffled to the edge of the branch, hesitantly edging himself towards the drop. It took him a bit of complicated wrangling with a nearby vine but he managed to drop to the next branch without accidentally killing himself.

He had a little luck after that, stumbling across a pitcher plant growing on the side of of the branches, each bowl leaf filled with a supply of water. It looked clear enough, and didn't smell funny, so he braved a taste. It tasted clean if a little odd - sort of like licking a leaf.

He flopped onto his side and letting himself just breath, taking relief in the way the aching of his leg lessened the smallest amount. The wounds on his back twinged painfully when he moved, but it was barely background noise against the throbbing agony of his leg.

Exhausted and sore, he watched as flying lizard a little bigger than his hand glided down to the pitcher plant, the spinning fan on its glowing orange when it passed through shadows. It glanced at him briefly, before clambering along the side of the branch, long tongue flicking out to dip in the water. It stayed there a while, camouflaged so well it looked like nothing but a stick as it sunning itself in a patch of light not far from him, leaving in a swirl of orange sometime later.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was jerking awake when something landed on his stomach. When he looked up one of the strange monkeys was swinging away, and there was a glossy red fruit sitting in his lap. Remembering his last attempt at eating strange unknown fruit, he sniffed it. It smelled faintly sweet, pleasant, and when be bit into it the skin burst, dripping sweet juice down his chin.

He finished it in three big bites, chewing with his mouth full to bursting, licking his fingers when he was done, chasing the last dripping juices. It wasn't enough to fill him completely, but the hungry ache in his stomach lessened, and perhaps that was enough for the moment. The creature chattered with obvious joy, eyes sparking with intelligence. He smiled at it wearily. "Thanks."

The cooling of the air as night approached roused him into action, and started moving again before the light was lost entirely. In a careful crawl he managed to travel along a few of the narrower branches and to the trunk of another great tree. Two of its larger branches, a little higher up, spread from the trunk in a way that left a bit of an indent between the trunk and branches. A bustle of ferns had taken up root there, spreading out and dangling roots over the edge of the basin.

He curled up there, on the springy ferns, and tired to block out the haze of pain enough to go back to sleep. He was just beginning to blink sleepily when the light began to dim, never quite reach full darkness but lingering in twilight for hours.

At first he thought he must be imagining it and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't just his imagination. His eyes flew opened, and he stared, awed and amazed, as the ferns around him began to glowed faintly, the dark prints on their leaves turning a shining pink with the falling of the sun.

And it wasn't just the ferns, he noticed, sitting up. All around him the jungle was lighting up in gentle greens, blues and shades of purple, glowing patterns appearing on every plant in sight. Those that had been most mundane in the light shone most brightly at night, even the moss on which he'd crawled all day without a second thought glowed a soft green.

The places he touched glowed brightest among the ferns, and when he reached out, running his fingers along a patch of moss, that glowed brighter too in response to his touch.

He trailed his fingers back and forth, watching the moss brighten beneath his then slowly darken again. Carefully, he maneuvered himself onto his back gazing up at the bright canopy. Brilliant patterns of light glowed softly everywhere he looked, spots and stripes and swirling lines standing out in the darkness and lighting the world with a faint glow. And despite the pain of his leg, despite his exhaustion and hunger and trauma of the last few days, he couldn't help but smile delightedly.

Because this? This was _beautiful_ in a way that made his heart lift. The lingering pain and stress tensing his muscles fading just that littlest bit as he relaxed.

He didn't know how he'd missed this. Days he'd been running around this jungle, yet he'd never seen it. Somehow he'd always been unconscious or asleep before the sun set, waking only once this nighttime festival of light had long faded beneath the light of day. Along his hands, small white spots he hadn't noticed began to glowed gently as well. Sleepily he wondered if they were the same as the white pinpricks as he'd seen in his reflection. Did they glow too?

He admired the night glow a while longer, listening to the quiet and distant noise of night animals coming out - yipping and howls down below, rousing him a little, but they passed soon enough - before his yawns grew too large and he had trouble keeping open his eyes. He curled up in the ferns, leg twinging at the movement, and closed his eyes.

The monkey creatures had grown bold while he slept, and when he woke it was to one of them tugging at his hair. When he mumbled sleepily, lifting his head, it backed away with an alarmed chatter, dropping over the side of the branch and swinging away from vine to vine. It didn't go far, settling on a branch a couple of meters away, chewing gamely on a touch piece of root tugged off one of the hanging plants as it watched him.

Beside his head, dropped in the ferns, lay a couple more of the lovely red fruit. His fingers twitched towards them, stomach rumbling and saliva wetting his mouth in anticiapation. He paused, looking at the creature once more. Several others had joined it on the branch and they all watched him, chattering amongst themselves, some gnawing away at roots, others holding the same red fruit they'd so generously given him.

He looked at the fruit, then back at them, picking one up and popping it down on the branch a little out of the way. He left it there, taking to the second fruit with a ravenous hunger. It dripped everywhere, a good bit of juice lost, and he was more careful with the last, sucking at it through a hole in the skin before finally taking a bite.

The dizziness and bone deep exhaustion that had hounded him since his injury had lessened a little, the food doing wonders, but he was still tired and sore, nursing serious injuries. There was a fuzzy quality to his thoughts that had gotten worse since waking. He felt muddled, cloudy, his thoughts moving in a sluggish path through his head. All he wanted was to curl up and go back to sleep, maybe wake up again when he was feeling less horrid.

He hadn't looked at his leg wound since he'd wrapped it up, reluctant to undo the bandages now and start the bleeding afresh. But he knew without looking that it wasn't good. He just hoped nothing too nasty had gotten into it.

He must have dozen again - it was happening more and more often, him just slipping off to sleep without realizing it - because when he woke up the fruit he'd put aside was gone. Off on the branch, one of the monkey creatures had it in had.

It chattered to the others, nudging away their hands when they went to grab at the fruit, before murmuring with delight and taking a big bite out of it, long teeth flashing as it made quick work of it. The group kept up a constant level of chatter as they ate and groomed, rolling across the branches and rubbing their skin in the moss to clear off dirt and biting insects. Eventually they moved on, in search of food or water or both, leaving him alone once more.

He was on the verge of dozing off once more when he heard something that jolted him back into awareness in an instant. Down below he could hear the rhythmic thumping of hooves. Not just that but- Voices. People. Still feeling muddled and hazy, he crawled awkwardly to the edge of his makeshift nest, peering over the side. He hadn't been mistaken - there were people down below, as strange and blue as himself, riding large six legged mounts he could only describe as _almost_ horse-ish.

He must have made a sound, because the next thing he knew one was looking up, meeting his eyes.


	3. Chapter 2 - Tsu'tey

It was barely a glimpse, but it was enough to make Tsu'tey stop, his pa'li slowing to a halt as it sensed his thoughts. She was agitated, confused, her prey mind making her skittish to any new possible threat. He laid a hand on her side, breathing through their bond a wave of calm. _Easy, there is no danger._

Ahead his father paused, noticing his absence. His pa'li circled around to face Tsu'tey, the rest of their party following suit. When Tsu'tey didn't look didn't look away, still staring into the trees, he prompted his pa'li into a trot, coming to rest beside Tsu'tey. "What is it? What have you seen?"

Lo'ak followed him, his pa'li snorting in agitation, wide eyes casting in all directions. Lo'ak had his bow in hand, arrow in place but not drawn - at the ready, just in case. "Did you see the palulukan? It has been see nearby recently."

Tsu'tey frowned, and shook his head, still staring into the branches. "No, not that... There's someone up there."

Ateyo following Tsu'tey's gaze up to the trees, brows drawing together thoughtfully. "Who? None of the clan said they were coming here today. They would have greeted us."

Tsu'tey shook his head, "I didn't see them well enough."

"Perhaps someone from another clan?" Lo'ak suggested, but even he sounded unconvinced. Na'vi did not travel far from their clans without reason, and certainly never alone and without announcing themselves. The Omaticaya were on good terms with all neighboring clans and those beyond were so far away that clans were almost indifferent of each other. Na'vi had not waged war on each other in a thousand years, it that was not something that would change without great cause. And if that were the case, the Omaticaya would know - _every_ clan would know.

One of the other warriors made a noise, "Ateyo, we cannot wait."

Ateyo said nothing, still staring up at the trees, his eyes scanning the branches. He hadn't seen anything. Whoever it was was hiding. Even Tsu'tey had only caught a brief look at them before they disappeared. If he had not met their eyes, had not seen them widen with surprise and then pull back completely, he would have thought it was nothing but a trick of the light.

"You keep going," Tsu'tey said. His father and the warriors were on a patrol. Eytukan had ordered them to make a round through the Omaticaya forests and return back with the latest news of the Skypeople. It was an important task, one that should not be delayed. He was not important to the mission, only along because his father thought it would be a good experience. His absence would do no harm. "I will look into this."

Ateyo gave him a searching look, but nodded "I will leave it to you."

With a cry Ateyo threw his pa'li back into a run, the rest of the warriors taking up his call and following behind him. Lo'ak lingered a moment, casting a cautious look up at the trees. "Be careful. I do not like this secrecy - it worries me. It is no good sign."

"I will be fine," Tsu'tey said, slipping off his pa'li and drawing his bow. Giving her one last reassurance he gently released his tsaheylu with her. Her breath releasing with a woosh, feet stamping at the ground as the connection was broken. "Go."

Lo'ak did not wait for more. Tsu'tey watched him ride away, pa'li leaping over a high out-cropped root and disappearing from sight in the jungle. Tsu'tey stoked the side of his pa'li's neck soothingly, making sure she was settled before letting her wander off to feed on some nearby flowers. Then turned his gaze upwards once more.

He scaled the tree cautiously, keeping his ears keen and moving without a sound. An arrow was nocked on his bow, but he didn't draw it yet. Off in the jungle he could hear a group of syaksyuk chattering, and beyond them the distant bellowing of a passing herd of talioang. Neither sounded alarmed. It was a good sign. No predators were nearby, nothing was disturbing the jungle.

There was a sound behind him and he turned in time to see the a patch of springy ferns growing in the high branches. He drew his arrow, bringing it up, ready to fire, and stepped forward. Cautiously, he parted the ferns with the tip of the arrow. The ferns were empty, nothing there but leaves and a few insects.

He lifted his bow, turning, only for someone to grabbed him from behind. With a snarl he kicked out, aiming to throw them off balance as he delivered a hard blow to their stomach with his elbow. His attacker let out a pained breath, their grip only tightening.

Tsu'tey ducked in their drip, managing to get enough wriggle room to whip his bow around, striking his assailant with the springy wood. It must have hit them, because they fell back with a pained whine. Tsu'tey turned, drawing his arrow in a smooth motion and aiming it right at their head.

Breathing hard, Tsu'tey took his attacker in. It was a boy, barely a year or two younger than Tsu'tey himself, staring up at Tsu'tey with wide eyes, breath coming hard and fast. He was bleeding, Tsu'tey noticed. There were dozens of small scratches across his shoulders and upper arms, a couple of serious looking cuts just visible on his side and-

Tsu'tey sucked in a harsh breath. His leg was caked in blood, deep lacerations visible beneath the boy's make-do bandages. The amount of blood was worrying, as was what he could see from where the bandages didn't completely cover the wounds.

When Tsu'tey moved, taking an instinctive step forward, already going to lower his arrow, the boy flinched, frightened eyes fixing on his bow. Tsu'tey loosened it immediately, letting the arrow drop harmlessly and tucking it back into the quiver string. He raised his hands, stepping away, and the boy scrambled back immediately, dragging his leg behind him.

Tsu'tey's eyes fixed on it, noting the boy's hitched breath and the paling of his already sickly face when it jarred the wound. "Don't move." Tsu'tey ordered sharply, and it was only when the boys eyes flickered to his, hands clenching by his sides as if he was getting ready to attack, that he realized how that must have sounded.

He tried again, more calmly, gesturing to the boys wound. "You'll make your leg worse."

The boy looked at him speculatively, as if deciding whether to trust him or not. He must have seen something in Tsu'tey's expression because he gave a minute nod and stopped trying to crawl away.

He flinched when Tsu'tey made to approach. Tsu'tey set his bow aside, out of reach as a gesture of good will, before slowly crouching beside the boy. He hesitantly touched the leaves around his leg, gently prying them away to get a better look at the wound.

The boy tensed, despite gritting his teeth not able to contain a small hiss of pain, but he didn't pull away. Tsu'tey pulled the leaf off a little more, looking beneath. The skin around the wounds, from what he could make out through the layer of dried blood, was flushed an angry red, the edges of the wounds already starting to fester. Tsu'tey swallowed. Goddess, even Mo'at, for all their renowned healing skills, would have a hard time fixing that.

Gently he covered the wound again, not touching it further. He turned to the boy, very deliberately keeping a bit of distance between them. "You need help," he said, meeting his eyes straight on. He glanced towards the boy's leg, "If it gets any worse it could kill you."

Turning a sickly shade of green, the boy looked at his leg. Up close Tsu'tey could see the flush of fever to his face and the slight glossy quality of his eyes. He might have survived up until now but he wouldn't for much longer, not without medicine and proper food and rest. Tsu'tey didn't know much about healing, not like Mo'at or Sylwanin, but he had seen them working often enough to know the wound was serious.

He fixed his eyes on Tsu'tey, eyes glinting with stubbornness. He didn't look scared anymore, just determined. "Who are you?"

"I am Tsu'tey, son of Ateyo, of the Omaticaya," Tsu'tey said, and he held out his hand. "Let me help you."

The boy bit his lip, considering. He took Tsu'tey's hand, and Tsu'tey helped him to his feet, bringing the boy's arm over his shoulder and stepping in to support him on his injured side. Together they managed to limp their way down to the ground. Tsu'tey's pa'li snorted with agitation at the smell of blood.

Tsu'tey laid a hand on her neck, her pulse thrumming against his palm from deep beneath her thick hide. "Be calm,"he murmured, grabbing his braid and bringing it around to make tsaheylu her. "Be still."

It took a bit of maneuvering but they managed to get the boy sitting securely on her back. Tsu'tey slung himself up behind him, careful not to press on the wounds on the boy's back, and directed his pa'li in a gentle walk in the direction of the hometree.

Word must have gone ahead, because Mo'at met them on the approach. The journey had been too much for the boy and about halfway through he'd slumped back against Tsu'tey, unconscious, his skin hot and feverish to the touch.

With the help of Mo'at and another couple of concerned Na'vi they managed to extract him carefully form the back of the pa'li. Mo'at wasted no time in inspecting his wounds, her face going drawn and grave at the extent of the damage.

"Take him to the healing chambers," she ordered. "His wounds need to be tended as soon as possible."

Another two clan members stepped up to help, together carrying him up through the winding paths up the hometree without jarring his wounds. Tsu'tey tagged along, answering Mo'at's questions as best he could.

"He didn't say anything," Tsu'tey said, "but he understood what I was saying. He wasn't delirious. He was aware of his surroundings right up until he collapsed."

Mo'at narrowed her eyes, nodding. "Perhaps there is hope then. The wounds cannot be more than a couple of days old - it is possible the sickness has not set in too deep."

"But what caused them?" Tsu'tey asked, "They do not look like a nantang attack."

"It was the palulukan. I have seen wounds like this before, but never on anyone alive." Mo'at glanced at the boy, dangling unconscious in the arms of her people. "It is a miracle he is alive. The Goddess must be fond of him."

Tsu'tey looked upon the boy with new eyes. The boy had great spirit. He had seen it in his eyes when they met, his stubborn fire even faced with Tsu'tey's arrow. Hearing the story of his wounds only reaffirmed this impression. To escape an encounter with a palulukan, alone and unarmed, and so young, was something. And after that, to survive in the jungle for who knows how long with such grievous wounds...

"Will he survive?" Tsu'tey asked.

"That is to be seen," is all Mo'at replies. "We will do all we can for him."

Her face was grave, her voice tinted with grim determination. It was a sad thing to see one so young so injured. Children were precious to the Na'vi - the jungle was a dangerous place, its creatures often hungry or lethal simply because of their size and nature, and it was not uncommon for children to be lost in that manner.

The rest of the clan was not unaffected, either. Those helping carry the boy wore open expressions of concern, taking all pains to keep in comfortable and avoid worsening his wounds. Other could be seen watching as they passed, more than one breaking into soft whispers in prayer to Eywa. His death, should it come to pass, would be greatly mourned among the clan.

He stops at the entrance to the healing chambers, watching them set the boy down. Mo'at was in her element, summoning her apprentices to her and beginning work on the boy. The Na'vi who'd helped carry the boy quickly got out of the way, trailing past him. Tsu'tey watched for a moment longer, until one of the apprentices gave him a thankful nod and pulled across the living curtain of vines that acted as a door to the healing chambers, blocking the inside from sight and leaving the healers to work undisturbed.

He stayed there, waiting outside the healing chambers until late in the afternoon when Ateyo returned. He stopped beside Tsu'tey, looking at the closed vines of the healing chamber.

"I heard what happened." Ateyo said. "You handled it well."

The words send a faint stirring of pride blossoming in his chest. His father had always been a serious man, even in Tsu'tey's childhood, more the type to show affection through silent gestures than open words. The death of Tsu'tey's mother had effected him greatly. He was more withdrawn after that, more solemn and rarer to smile. It took Lo'ak and Tsu'teys combined efforts to draw him out of his shell at times. Tsu'tey knew his father was proud of him, but to hear him praised Tsu'tey so openly was rare and all the more precious for it.

Ateyo laid a firm hand on his shoulder. His hand was warm. "Come, tell me more about it."

Tsu'tey had just finished speaking when the vines closing off the healing chambers drew aside, Mo'at stepping out. Her expression was drawn and tired, but there a cast of relief to her eyes that made Tsu'tey straighten hopefully.

"How is he?" Ateyo asked, looking through into the healing chamber. Tsu'tey followed his gaze. the boy lay in the same place as before, his smaller cuts covered in healing paste, the smell pungent even from the entrance of the chamber. The blood had been washed from his leg and hodge-podge bandages removed, revealing the full extent of his injury. His leg was cushioned carefully so as not to disturb the thick slather of cleansing herbs that had been left to seep into the wound and create a protective layer, closing the open wound to further infection.

"We done all we can for him now. He will survive the night, Eywa willing, and after that recover." Her hands still smelt faintly of blood, enough that Tsu'tey's sensitive nose could pick it up even beneath the pungent smell of her herbs and remedies.

"His injuries will not affect him?" Ateyo asked, the faint trace of concern in his voice belying the full depth of his concern. "If the tendon has been cut-"

"No." Mo'at said, shaking her head. "It was close, but the muscles are intact. As long as there are no complications he should be able to walk unhindered once recovered. But should the infection return..."

"Is that likely?" Tsu'tey said, interrupting. Mo'at gave him an exasperated look but continued. She had two girls of her own after all, she knew how teenagers could be.

"We have gotten rid of the worst of the infection. If he manages to overcome the initial sickness then his body will be stronger and it is unlikely to return. But that is up to Eywa now. If he makes it, he will likely make a full recovery - though the scars will never go away, they are too deep."

She fixed her eyes on him, imperious. "Now go rest, both of you. There will be a lot of work to be done tomorrow, and it helps no one for you to linger here, agonizing over the boy."

Ateyo nodded in agreement, and Tsu'tey did not protest. He knew she was right. It didn't stop him from taking a final glance of the boy before he turned to leave, muttering a prayer of his own to Eywa beneath his breath.

He slept restlessly, waking up a sold hour before the first stirrings of dawn, when the only light was that of the night glow. Down in the ground chamber of the hometree the fires were still lit, several warriors and hunters, out for an early start, sharing a meal around the main bonfire. They didn't comment when Tsu'tey joined them save to greet him and offer him breakfast.

Finally one asked, looking at him across the fire. "You were the one who brought in the boy yesterday, yes?" The rest of the group turned to look, ears twitching, interested. Tsu'tey eyed them, a little reluctant to go spreading information around when it was yet uncertain the boy would live. Finally he nodded.

"Did the Tsahik say anything about where he came from?" Another asked. Tsu'tey shook his head, saying "He passed out soon after I found him and he hasn't woken since."

Murmurs broke out among the group. Tsu'tey was hardly surprised the story had spread through the members of the clan in the short hours since his arrival. This ordeal with the boy was big news amongst the clan. It was an unprecedented occurrence. People were curious to find out exactly how it happened.

"All I know," Tsu'tey said, busying himself with a skewer of roasted insects one of the warriors had passed him in hope of evading further questions, "Is that he managed to survive an encounter with the Palulukan."

That set off another round of discussion among the warriors, many of them looking impressed, others hard faced and grave at the thought of it even happening. "Alone?" One asked, leaning over to Tsu'tey, "Unarmed?" When Tsu'tey nodded he whistled. "We'll have to keep an eye on that one - Eywa holds him in favor."

"Enough," Another snapped, eyes narrowing at the rest of the group. They quieted immediately. The man had stayed out of the conversation so far, but now he spoke up. "This is no matter for light discussion. That was no position for a child to be in. It is lucky he even survived."

Tsu'tey founding himself nodding, grateful when the others let the topic go without further questions, easily moving on to conversation about their last hunt and what game was in the area.

"The talioang should be passing through soon," one of the hunters said. The others nodded appreciatively. "Its worth scouting them out, see if they're coming close enough for a proper hunt."

Tsu'tey listened to them a while longer, until people began to filter down from the higher levels of the hometree and the morning meal began in earnest. Most of the warriors had left by then, the few hunters among the group setting off early on to make the best of the dawn. The man who'd quieted the others paused when he left, stopping beside Tsu'tey.

"Keep an eye on the boy, will you?" He said, not looking at Tsu'tey. His face was stern, grave, but when his eyes flickered to Tsu'tey he could see the hint of concern there. "It will be a relief to hear when he recovers."

"I would have anyway," Tsu'tey replies, holding his ground. The man looks at him, snorts, and claps him on the back. "Good."

He stayed until the end of the morning meal, then headed back up the hometree towards the healing chambers. Mo'at and Eytukan looked up as he entered, Eytukan inviting him to join them with a minute nod of his head.

Tsu'tey touched a hand to his forehead respectfully, "I see you, Eytukan."

Eytukan nodded and returned the gesture, "I see you, Tsu'tey son of Ateyo." Tsu'tey looks past him, trying to be subtle as he looked for the boy. He's sleeping again. Some of the colour has returned to his face and he no longer looks like he might just fade out between one breath and the next.

Eytukan follows his gaze. "We were discussing him," he says, sharing a look with Mo'at. She nods, continuing, "His presence alone in the jungle is concerning, especially so far from the other clans' lands."

"Did he not say how he got here?" Tsu'tey asks, curious despite himself. It feels wrong to be so impertinent before Eytukan - like being a naughty child before his father. The feeling sits wrong with him, and he tries to swallow it down. "I apologize, I thought he had woken up."

Eytukan doesn't remark on his rudeness, the smallest hint of amusement tilting the corner of his mouth and warming his eyes. Sometimes it is hard to remember that the chief of the Omaticaya is Neytiri and Slywanin's father too. "You were not mistaken. He did wake up, however-"Eytukan looks at Mo'at, letting her explain.

"He has lost his memory," Mo'at says, not beating about the bush. "But he has no bruises, no head injuries that could have caused it. It is something deeper. Eywa has sealed away his memory - whether it returns or not is up to her to decide."

"He does not remember his own clan?" Tsu'tey asks, shocked. The Omaticaya clan is a part of him right to his bones. He has spent every moment of his life a member of the clan, eating with them, singing with them, sharing their stories and growing beneath the guiding hand of the clan. He tries to imagine a life without it, a life not remembering it, and comes up short. It is unimaginable.

Eytukan nods. "I have ordered messengers sent to the clans. If we are lucky he may be of the Kekuna'an or the Siwanaati. Yet I doubt that will be the case." That they would have heard if one of the clans were missing a child goes unsaid. The loss of a child is not the sort of thing that is kept quiet.

"You think it was the sky people," Tsu'tey says, insides going cold. Everyone knew the sky people were strange, that they did not follow the ways of the Na'vi, did not follow Eywa. But to do this...? Tsu'tey thinks of the way they tear up the earth with their metal machines, burn the plants and kill animals with careless waves of their biting bullets. No, he thinks, perhaps this is not beyond them either.

"Do not think too much of it," Eytukan warns, voice serious, "There may still be an innocent explanation to this. We shall wait to hear what the clans have to say."

Tsu'tey nods, solemn, but can't help the small curl of cold anger that lingers in his stomach. The sky people are not trustworthy and eventually they will prove it. It is not a matter of if but when. Eytukan sees the expression but does not scold him further. He too is wary of the sky people, and for good reason.

"We must go," Eytukan says, "I must attend to the clan." He nods approvingly at Tsu'tey then turns to leave. Mo'at pauses.

"Stay with him," She orders, as if Tsu'tey were not going to do that already. Or perhaps that it why she says it. "He may wake again. If he does get him some food and keep him company, answer his questions. Getting stressed and trying to get up would set back his healing."

Tsu'tey nods, agreeing immediately, "It will be done."

Mo'at looks at him for a long moment, her gaze searching. She must see what she was looking for, because she nods. "Perhaps Ateyo was right, you are ready for your Unaltiron."

Tsu'tey blushed faintly under the praise and nods respectfully. He is young to have his Unaltiron, probably the youngest in the last five years. It was a great honor to be thought ready so early. She leaves without another word, drawing the curtain of vines behind her as she leaves.

It is perhaps an hour after Mo'at and Eytukan left that the boy begins to stir, groaning as he shifts in his sleep, his eyes slowly blinking open. Tsu'tey fetches some water, returning in time to offer the bowl to his parched lips. The boy drinks deeply and Tsu'tey has to tilt the bowl away to stop him from spilling it. When he slows down, Tsu'tey eases, letting him finish it at his leisure.

He boy looks around cautiously, fingers fiddling unnoticed with the edge of the bed mat. He eyes Tsu'tey for a moment, obviously remembering him but still not quite trusting. Finally, he asks, "Where... are we?"

"At the hometree of the Omaticaya," Tsu'tey replies, "You are with my clan. Mo'at, our Tsahik, has been taking care of you."

The boy looks down, examining the herbal pastes and bandages covering his wounds. "So that's what these were. It's so different from-"He cuts off abruptly, a lost look coming over his face. He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the treatments and focusing on Tsu'tey. "Thank you. For helping me, I mean," he adds awkwardly.

"You are Na'vi," Tsu'tey says as if its as simple as that. And in a way it is. Clan or not the boy is one of their people, on of them, and the Na'vi take care of their own. No other reason is needed to help someone in need. "I would not have left you to die. No one would have."

It's obvious the boy doesn't know what to say to that. Tsu'tey continues, "Are you hungry? Mo'at said you should eat."

The boys eyes him, visibly biting the inside of his lip, but nods a moment later. Tsu'tey sets down the bowl of water, fetching the food Mo'at's apprentices had left waiting. It's a mix of small purple berries and young grub larvae that are easy to eat. Tsu'tey himself remembers eating them on multiple occasions whenever he was ill or injured. They're a common food for the ill.

When he hands the bowl to the boy he looks in, skeptical. The berries he accepts easily enough, picking one out, careful not to touch the larvae, and eats it. The rest of the berries go soon enough and the boys if left staring desolately at the larvae, glancing nervously at Tsu'tey ever so often as if he isn't quite sure what to do with them.

"You can eat these too," Tsu'tey says. The boy doesn't look reassured. Amused, Tsu'tey reaches over picking up one between his thumb and forefinger and popping it in his mouth. The skin is slimy until he bites through it, then the insides are rich and chewy, slightly earthy in taste. He smirks at the boy's barely contained look of revulsion and the way he tries to subtly lean back when Tsu'tey offers the bowl back to him.

"You'll have to eat them sometime," Tsu'tey says. The boy eyes the bowl speculatively, but hesitantly reaches out and takes one of the larvae. It looks like it physically pains him to put it in mouth but after a few reluctant chews his expression clears. Still, Tsu'tye notices he doesn't reach for another one.

With an amused huff, Tsu'tey puts the bowl aside. Looking around, the boys inspects the healing chambers. The vines at the entrance sway gently, lit by rays of light that drip through the minute gaps in the wall where two great twisting pillars of the hometree twist, their joining leaving a faint crack. Visible on the far wall of the chamber were dozens of bunches of dried herbs hanging tied alone one wall, giving the room a faintly tangy scent, while bowls and tightly sealed stone jars of carefully collected ingredients line the shelves carved into the living wood.

Tsu'tey watched the boy look around, the way his eyes widened in surprise and lingered on the glowing rawp bulbs that lit the dim corners of the room with glowing blue. The boy tried sit up. He didn't make it more than a couple of inches before stopping with a frown. The boy huffed, but slumped back down onto the bed mat none the less. "I feel sort of weird. Rubbery."

Tsu'tey nodded, not surprised. "Mo'at gave you something to numb the pain. It doesn't cloud your mind, but its a paralytic." At the boys look of alarm Tsu'tey backtracks, feeling a flash of embarrassment at his misstep. "It laxens your muscles, making it hard to move. It'll wear off in a couple of hours."

The boy lowers himself back down onto the mat, wincing a little. Tsu'tey's eyes narrow, catching the flash of pain across his expression. "If its starting to wear off I will get Mo'at-"

"No," The boy shook his head, "It's fine." There was a stubborn set to his face that made Tsu'tey doubt he would say if he was in pain even if he was halfway to crippled. Still, there was a tenseness to his shoulders that Tsu'tey did not like. He was getting stressed, uncomfortable. He couldn't rest like this.

With a small cunning smile, Tsu'tey said "At least this time you're not trying to strangle me when I try to help."

The boy scowled at him, indignant. "What even- I thought you were going to shoot me! How was I supposed to know you were friendly when you run around pointing arrows at everyone you meet!"

Tsu'tey huffed a laugh, loud by his standards but barely more than a breath compared to Neytiri's vibrant laughter and Lo'ak's jubilant cheer. It must have caught on because the next moment the boy was snickering too, wincing a little awkwardly when the movement made the scratches on his back twinge.

The boy smiled sheepishly. "I, ah, sorry about that. I wouldn't do it now. If I were in the same position I mean."

Tsu'tey shook his head, amused. "No. It is good you defended yourself. There are too many dangers in the jungle for us to not be on guard."

By the time Mo'at returned to check the boys injuries later that afternoon, dismissing Tsu'tey, the boy had relaxed enough to finish eating the bowl of larvae. He made a face whenever he ate one but it had become something of a joke, keeping it up even long after he'd stopped being repulsed by their appearance. Once Tsu'tey managed to break through his awkward reluctance to talk the boy turned into a bubbling fountain of questions. Tsu'tey spent a good hour patiently answering any and every question the boy had - ranging from what exactly a rawp was to what the title Tsahik meant and a dozen other subjects.

When it was time for him to leave he boy's eyes followed Tsu'tey as he made for the entrance and Tsu'tey paused at the door, looking back. He looked at Mo'at. "Could I visit again tomorrow?"

From where he lay, Mo'at checking his wounds, the boy smiled, unable to hide his relief at the prospect of not being shut up alone in the dim healing chambers for the next weeks. Mo'at poked him sternly, "Lie still." She looked up, meeting Tsu'tey's eyes. "If he is well rested," she says, giving the boy a stern look, "I do not see why not."

Tsu'tey nodded sharply and pulled the vines back with a brush of his fingers, leaving without another word.


	4. Chapter 3 - He

It was a good week before he was able to leave the gloomy depths of the healing chambers, and even then he could only manage a shuffling walk along some of the wider paths of the hometree, with Tsu'tey supporting his side and helping him limp along.

People stared at him as they passed. At first it had made his hackles rise and he'd turned awkwardly away from their watching eyes, as if he could pretend they weren't there by not looking at them. It was only after the first couple of times someone approached him, giving him a careful pat on the arm and wishing him a swift recovery that he realized that the reason they were all staring at him was because they were worried for him. It was... odd. Unfamiliar. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

When he brought it up with Tsu'tey he seemed unconcerned. He'd just frowned, something he'd soon discovered was Tsu'tey's customary expression. At first he'd thought Tsu'tey was cross with him for some reason, only realizing later on that Tsu'tey frowned at everyone, not just him.

"All lives are precious to the Na'vi," Tsu'tey said by way of explanation when he finally grew curious enough about all the staring to ask. "The lives of children even more so. Finding you in such a condition so far from your clan was very distressing. There are a lot of prople praying for your wellbeing."

"Oh," He said, feeling relieved. So it wasn't like- The thought slipped out of his head as quickly as it had entered and he was left standing there, grasping uselessly for answers that never came. Frustrated he glared at the ground. Tsu'tey didn't comment. Moments like this had infuriatingly common since his rescue by Tsu'tey the Omaticaya. His memory had shown no signs of returning and it left him restless.

"You said you would show me more of the hometree today." He said, switching subjects.

Tsu'tey had asked once, asking if he really couldn't remember anything, but Tsu'tey had backed off without a word when he could no nothing but shrug helplessly in answer, angry and frustrated. It helped, a bit, to have Tsu'tey there answering his questions. Learning helped sooth the irritated itch under his skin left by his lack of memory. He just felt so useless sometimes, and every new thing he earned lessened that feeling a little. It felt like he was getting back on his feet, perhaps not quickly, but at least he was doing something.

His memory was one source of worry, his injury another, but in the end was learning about this new land and people that took up most of his attention. Even with everything Tsu'tey and Mo'at told him the Omaticaya remained something of a mystery to him, their ways foreign and incomprehensible at times.

For every question Tsu'tey answered another dozen seemed to spring to his mind, all clamoring for space in his head until it felt like he spent all day just asking and asking about the most obvious things. He was slowly piecing things together, pulling together a vague image of the Omaticaya from what Tsu'tey had told him.

Staying cooped up in the healing chambers did nothing to help his feeling of restlessness. He ached to get out and explore, get a breath of fresh air and have a good look at where he was. Hearing about it from Tsu'tey was all well and good but it wasn't the same as seeing it himself. If anything hearing about the strange creatures that seemed so commonplace to Tsu'tey, who didn't even blink as he named one by one the strange creatures he'd encountered during his days wandering around in the forest, made him want to go out and see them himself even more.

Tsu'tey looked at him considering, not quite frowning but almost. For all that Tsu'tey was stern and serious, at heart he was a happy soul. When he smiled - few and far between yet still more often than Tsu'tey would ever like to admit to, he knew - it was radiant. "Mo'at did say I should bring you lunch. Come, we shall go to the ground clearing - they'll be happy to see you. And if you get too tired we can always get them to carry you back up."

"I can walk!" He protested. He imagined being swung over Tsu'tey's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, carried up through the hometree in sight of the whole clan, and was mortified at the very thought. "There's no need for any of that!"

Whatever his objections in the end he let Tsu'tey help him hobble his way down the hometree. To be honest he doubted he'd have been able to make it by himself, not that he'd ever admit it out loud. They had to break on the way down, which was embarrassing enough, when his leg started to grow weak beneath him. Tsu'tey didn't say anything, just continuing to point out the different features of the hometree as they descended through its great spiraling interior.

It was a great relief to sit down on one of the twisting roots of the homretree when they reached the base of the coil and get the weight off his injured foot. Tsu'tey had been careful to help him stay off it but even then there were moments when putting his foot down was unavoidable. He was met with an even greater amount of staring down here but he managed to shrug them off with nothing but a hesitant smile towards his watchers. It was...less grating, maybe, to know that they were staring because they were wished him a good recovery than any other reason.

For all that they stared the Omaticaya were nothing if not hospitable. Food was thrust into his hands only moments after he sat down, its giver disappearing again before he could do more than breath a thank you. Tsu'tey watched amused as he struggled to spot them amongst the crowd of Na'vi, giving up soon after and taking a bite out of the strange flat fruit he'd been given.

He and Tsu'tey sat somewhere near the back of the gathering, trying to stay out of the way of the bustle of people. The chamber was crowded but lively. Groups of Na'vi sat in on the floor in circles around the half a dozen small fires lighting the ground cavern of the hometree. All food seemed to be shared, brought forth by every member of the group to be cooked on the fires and shared around to whoever wanted some. Some Na'vi were even singing beneath their breath as they passed around bowls from person to person, skewers of insects handed back through the group and fresh ingredients passed forward to replace them on the fire.

He glanced at Tsu'tey out of the corner of his eye, "I didn't expect there to be so many people."

Tsu'tey bit into his own fruit, giving a grateful nod to the man who'd handed it to him, already flitting away with the platter of fruit in hand, dropping fruit into waiting hands at every group he passed. "The morning meal is the communal. All members of the clan come to eat together. The evening meal is different. Unless they's a feast everyone eats on different levels throughout the hometree, with family and friends and the like."

As the meal stretched on people begun to break away, disappearing back into their heights of the hometree or out to finish the last tasks of the day before night fell. Not far from them a group of wears set to work, their voices carrying in song from where they clambered up the great vine structure that stretched to the roof of the ground cavern. The frame was immense and housed a great tapistry in the making, threads hanging unwoven from the bottom edge in a veritable curtain of threads.

As he watched one woman climbed nimbly up the frame, total unconcerned by the height and her precarious position as she took up the threads, beginning to weave once more. It was a surprise when she began to sing, her voice strong and clear, rising above the chatter of the crowd. "_The rhythm of rain and sun..."_

_"Of night and day..._" A man continued, taking up her song as he climbed to join her. More people joined in, a woman right beside him breaking out into a joyful verse, voice warbling like a song bird. When she saw him staring she grinned, tilting her head in greeting, before continuing, _"The rhythm of the years..."_

He listened to them sing, watching the painstaking work that went into every single inch of the weave. The strands were folded again and again, looped around each other and back around themselves in a sequence so complicated it took ten minutes to complete a single link. It was amazing - the time and effort that went into a single link, almost unnoticeable in the grand scheme of the tapestry, yet still lavished with such dedicated attention. It was inspiring to watch.

_"And the beat of the hearts, hearts of the people, fills me."_ They smiled as they sang, every now and then their voices rising, all joining together in a symphony that could be heard all throughout the hometree. _"Fills me! I weave the rhythm in yellow and blue-_

"- the rhythm of the years!" Someone joined in from right behind him and he started, turning. A girl, perhaps a year younger than him, stood behind him, a cheeky grin on her face. Tsu'tey frowned at her.

Tsu'tey inclined his head. "Neytiri."

She dropped down beside between them, forcing Tsu'tey to shuffle aside. Tsu'tey sent her disgruntled look but she paid him no mind. Above them the weavers continuing on with their song unperturbed, fingers dancing through the threads of the tapistry. _"The spiral of the lives..."_

"You've been absent recently Tsu'tey." She said, sounding almost scolding. Tsu'tey scowled, but the fond look in his eyes gave him away away.

"You could have found me easily enough." He said blandly.

Huffing, she turned away from Tsu'tey completely. Tsu'tey stared after her, settling back in resigned silence that spoke of long practice. Clearly he was used to this treatment. She touched her forehead and nodded in what he was coming to understand was the customary greeting of all Na'vi. "I see you."

"I see you." He said and returned passable copy of the gesture. The movements felt foreign and unusual but he'd seen it done enough times to do an approximation of it. "It's nice to meet you. I'm-" He stopped, left hanging with nothing to say after that. "Um."

"Do not worry yourself," She said giving him a reassuring smile "Mother has told me all about you."

"Your mother?" Did everyone in the clan know about him? The thought of every single person in the clan knowing more about him than he did was more than a little disturbing.

"Mo'at," Neytiri said, and, oh, that made sense. "Eytukan is my father. Sylwanin - my sister - is to be Tsahik after my mother." She smiled, "Mother says you are recovering quickly."

She says it with a sort of expectant quality and he is left to nod hesitantly. "She said I should be able to walk more easily in a few more weeks." He clings to the thought. He doesn't like being so limited, utterly dependent on other people for things even as small as walking to the bathroom. But even the thought of being mobile again does little to dispel the cloud of worry and uncertainty that had been linger around him the last week.

Eytukan had said he was probably from one of the nearby tribes, that messengers had been sent out. Now all they had to do was wait. But somehow he doubted he was from another clan, simply lost far from home. It just didn't feel right for some reason. He was left wondering what his next move would be after the messengers had returned and proved he wasn't from any of the clans. On the impossible chance that he did belong to a clan, then he had somewhere to start at least. If not... That was something to consider.

"You shall have to join us in training." Neytiri said. He nods, still a little confused, but doesn't put up a protest when she takes that as agreement. She sent Tsu'tey a knowing look, clearly fishing for information "There's been talk of you joining the next Unaltiron."

Tsu'tey doesn't rise to the bait, inclining his head a little. "It has been mentioned."

"It is almost time for the tiolang to return," Neytiri continued, hinting at something that went right above his head. Smirking a little, she said "Perhaps they'll invite you to join the hunt."

Tsu'tey drew up a little, visibly proud despite his attempts to hide it. Neytiri turned to him and explained. "Talioang are hand to hunt. It takes skill to bring one down. Should he manage to fell one they'll be sure to consider him ready for Iknimaya."

"The journey to bond my Ikran," Tsu'tey added, noticing his continuing puzzlement. His eyes widened a little, impressed. "Ikran. The-" He pointed vaguely upwards. Tsu'tey had told him about them and more than once he'd heard their cries in the distance at night when the everyday bustle and noise of the clan but he'd never seen one. He didn't have to pretend the awe in his voice. "That's amazing."

Tsu'tey nods. There was a pleased look on his face, head held high and proud. Neytiri whacked him lightly on the shoulder, smiling, amused. "You'll head will swell." She turned to him, grinning conspiratorially. "How you must suffer with only Tsu'tey to keep you company. He is more unfriendly than a zize. You must come see when you are healed, I will introduce you to proper company."

Biting his lip, he nodded. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to go around meeting half the clan but he had the feeling Neytiri was the sort to rope people into things whether they wanted to come or not. Before he had a chance to say something one way or another raised voices caught their attention from outside the hometree. As one they turned to look, the singing of the wavers trailing off as a group of Na'vi stormed through the cavernous entrance to the hometree, their faces drawn and angry.

Neytiri and Tsu'tey stood, going closer to listen. Tsu'tey gives him a hand, helping him limp along beside them, joining the rest of the crowd that gathered to watch the encounter.

The group stopped before Eytukan and Mo'at by the main bonfire. Eytukan met them calmly, stepping forward. The warrior at the end of the group, a woman with a long braid and a line of puckered scars down her side that gave her a distinctly fierce appearance, as if the stormy expression on her face wasn't enough, strode forward.

"They do it again," She snarled, hands gripping her bow as if she wanted nothing more than to shoot someone. She was pratically hissing, her tail lashing violently behind her. "Tearing the ground for their rocks, burning the trees. They kill for nothing and leave the corpses to rot. Wasteful. _Ungrateful."_ She spits the word like its a curse, and to the Na'vi it probably is. "They have no respect for life. No respect for the creatures they kill."

Murmurs break out among the crowd, more than one person hissing in agreement. Beside him Tsu'tey is stern, his scowl deep and angry. A glance at Neytiri tells a different story. She is frowning too, but even he can tell that it's more concerned and disappointed than angry.

Eytukan and the warriors continued talking, Eytukan's voice low and calm, carrying over the whispers of the crowd. "Keep watching them," He orders, expression grave, his eyes hard. "But do not attack. We will speak with them, warn them of their actions."

The woman hisses. "They will not stop, Eytukan. Even as we watch they slaughter our wild brothers, burn our home. We must act!"

"I will not have war if it can be avoided!" Eytukan said, voice rising. It was startling, unsettling. Eytukan seemed the type to take pride in being a calm and grounded leader for his people, able to keep his head and guide them through difficult times. Such a show of temper was telling. "Not if there are peaceful means still to be tried."

Mo'at's voice cut through the argument and everyone quieted to listen. She was like the calm in the eye of the storm, unfazed by the raised voices and building tensions. "They are willing to learn. It is better to teach them the ways of the Na'vi, let them pass on that knowledge to others."

Out of respect for Mo'at the warrior didn't argue more. She turned, storming off, the rest of her group following close behind. The heavy atmosphere lightened somewhat with the exit of the warriors but the murmurs remained, the crowd lingering.

They watch the crowd disperse little by little. Finally he turns to Tsu'tey and asks, quietly, "What was that about?"

"The Skypeople," Tsu'ety said, saying the name with unusual anger. "Strange demons. They come from beyond Eywa, from the skies, bringing metal and their 'machines' to dig the skin of the earth looking for rocks."

"And they're dangerous?" He asks. Tsu'tey shakes his head, shrugging harshly. "Some say yes, others not. When they first appeared there was a great deal of fighting. Many died. Now they try to make peace."

"But you don't think they're safe." He concluded.

Tsu'tey scowled. It was not one of his playful scowls, the ones he used to hide his smile and keep up the illusion of severity. This one was harsh, ugly. He didn't like it. "They kill for no reason, pull up living trees and burn them for their shiny rocks and their 'roads'."

He hummed considering but did not say more. Perhaps Tsu'tey and the others were right to be wary of them - their reasons seemed just enough. But the loss of his memory had left him cautious. He didn't want to go making half-cocked assumptions about things when he, quite literally, had no idea what was going on.

"Maybe I should ask Mo'at about it," he says. Tsu'tey looks at him and nods curtly, letting the subject drop.

"Come," Tsu'tey says, "It is time you returned to the healing chambers. Mo'at will want to check your wounds soon and she said not to exert yourself."

"They are not from Eywa," Mo'at says answers later when he gets around to asking. Her fingers dipped into the bowl by her side, returning covered in stinging paste which she spread gently on the edges of the cuts on his leg. It was starting to look better now. The redness around the wound had faded and it had begun to scab over. "They follow a different way. They do not see things the same way we do."

Neytiri nodded from where she sat at his other side, keeping him company while Mo'at went through her daily check of the wound. "But they are willing to learn," she continued, "One of them, Grace, she has a school in the jungle. They teach us about them - their language and where they come from. They learn from us as much as we learn from them"

Mo'at released his leg. She motioned for him to lean forward and inspected the scratched along his back. "These are close to healing. They will scar but if you are lucky it may fade with time."

Sitting back, she addressed him "The sickness in your leg has been defeated for now. It will heal more quickly now. Continue to keep your weight you leg it for the time being, we shall have to watch to see the sickness does not return."

She stood, motioning for Neytiri to follow. "We must let him rest now. The body cannot heal without sleep."

The next couple of days were spent trailing Tsu'tey and Neytiri around the hometree, more often than not ending him with him sitting somewhere, resting his leg and watching them go about their daily routines.

The first time Tsu'tey deems him well enough to venture out of the hometree he takes him to a clearing on the southern side of the hometree. It not until he passes through its immense roots and out into the open that he realized the full scale of the hometree. It seems to fill the sky for hundreds of meters in each direction, twisting right up into the clouds then spreading its immense arms through the heavens.

He stopped, staring. Around the hometree was a clearing, the immense trees that made up the bulk of the forest giving the shadowed reach of the hometree a wide berth and leaving ferns and smaller plants to grow in abundance in their absence. Here and there blue horse creatures like the one he'd first seen Tsu'tey riding could be seen, their heads lowered to brilliant yellow flowers, long tongues poking out to drink the flower's nectar.

"Amazing." It took him a moment to realize it was him that had said it. But it was. It was beautiful. Tsu'tey lifted an eyebrow at him and he huffed, embarrassed. "What? It is."

Tsu'tey grinned, sunshine returning to his expression. It was to seem him smile again. He'd been in an off mood since Eytukan's argument with the warriors, settling into long brooding silences when left to his own thoughts. "It is." Tsu'tey agreed. "Now come, I will introduce you to the pa'li."

Tsu'tey let out a sharp clicking noise as they approach a group of pa'li. They looked up at the sound, the long antenna that trailed from the sides of their head flicking. The pa'li drew closer, one bumping its long nose against Tsu'tey's side curiously. Tsu'tey stroked its neck, whispering a few reassuring words. Seeing that Tsu'tey had nothing to give it wandered off again, slurping at a nearby flower.

He hung back, a little intimidated. They had to be almost four meters in size, built heavy and strong with muscle. They had no hair but rather a long smooth crest that ran from the top of their head and down their neck. Tsu'tey pressed a affectionate hand to the long lines of one's face. When he looked up and saw him hanging back he beckoned him forward. "Come meet her. Pa'li are not aggressive."

Tentatively he approached. At Tsu'tey's encouraging look he lifted a hand, hesitantly touching her double jointed shoulder. She shifted at his touch, antenna swaying. She eyed him, honey eyes wide and expressive but turned away soon enough, accepting his presence. Her skin was humid from the jungle air but not unpleasantly so, warm and rubbery to the touch, coloured a dusky grey patterned with wide swaths of blue.

Gaining confidence he ran his hand over her side, feeling the strong structure of her bones deep beneath her thick muscles. He could feel the deep rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the shuttered holes along the side of her neck opening and closing with each outward breath.

"Would you like to meet her properly?" Tsu'tey asked. At his curious look Tsu'tey continued, sliding a hand down one of her antenna and grasping it gently, turning the shell at the end to reveal a line of pink filaments that coiled around each other, moving as if they were alive. Reaching behind him Tsu'tey grabbed his braid, burshing aside the hair at then end to reveal his own set of filaments.

"This is tsheylu, the bond," Tsu'tey said, carefully bringing his braid to the pa'li's antenna. Even before they touched the filaments reached for each other, unwinding from their own coil and stretching towards each other. As soon as they touched they wrapped firmly around each other, knitting tightly into a single band. Tsu'tey swung himself up onto the back of the pa'li in a smooth motion. The pa'li sprang into motion without Tsu'tey giving anyway outward gesture, kicking into the smooth canter.

There was a smoothness to their riding that made it look effortless. They moved together, Tsu'tey keeping a light balance upon her back and shifting with her as she moved. Not hindering her, not just a burden to be carried but a partner in the exercise. He did not even have to hold her antennae for support, simply leaning with her when she turned. When they circled back him Tsu'tey slipped off her back, making it look as easy as breathing.

"This is how we connect with others. We share their mind, share their body, and invite them into ours. It is... trust. Sharing who you are completely. A bond." Tsu'tey said, gesturing him closer. His breathing was slow and deep, synchronized with that of the pa'li. Tsu'tey touched a hand to the joining of his braid and the pa'li's antenna. Even before his touch landed the filaments began to unwound, the bond breaking.

Tsu'tey turned to him. "Now you try."

Uncertain, he stepped forward. He fumbled for his own braid - not a neat thing like Tsu'tey's but a sloppy job he'd barely managed to pull together that morning - and brought it forward. Indeed within the end of the braid he could see the tell tale pink of the delicate filaments. It was almost a surprise to see them. Somehow it hadn't computed that he would have them too.

He brought his braid closer to the pa'li's antenna, looking to Tsu'tey for confirmation. When Tsu'tey nodded he touched it to the pa'li's. Seeing Tsu'tey do it hadn't prepared it for what it would feel like. It was like being torn in half. He was here, but he was also _there._

He could see himself, see herself, through to sets of eyes. Their eyes. She could taste nectar on the air. There were ripe flowers nearby- She could feel the rest of the herd around her, their presence strong in her mind in a way that went beyond the physical. It was safe. Stay close to them. Stay close to them- She breathed out, neck tickling with the exhale. Her lungs were large, so large, she could run for hours- The flowers in front of her, behind him, near them, were bright yellow/muted grey. The ferns grey. But also green. So many colours, so many shades. But at the same time it was all just grey.

Breathless and disorientated, he stumbled back. His leg flared with pain and she panicked. That was not her. She was not injured. She was not-

The bond cut abruptly, filaments untangling and dumping him on his arse, still unable to tell left from right and up from down. It couldn't have lasted more than a second but it felt like he'd been drowned in a sea of information. The feeling of having ten limbs on total still lingered with him and he found himself clumsy in their absence, still expecting her second forelegs to provide that extra balance and push of speed. But they weren't there. He had two legs. He had always had two legs.

He slumped back in the dirt and shut his eyes, trying to block out the flood of sensory input. It was all too much. There were too many eyes and then not enough, painfully acute sense of smell now disconcertingly dull. Even the tickle of the plants against his skin was wrong. It was too sensitive, too thin. Surely her hide was thicker than that?

A hand landed on his shoulder and he almost flinched, that prey response ready to spur him into flight. It took him a moment to remember the feeling wasn't his and breath through it. He was fine. He was safe. It was just Tsu'tey.

"Are you alright?"

He took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "It all just... a bit intense."

"I ought to have better warned you. It becomes hard to remember how strange the first tsaheylu felt after you have done it so many times. Now it feels as natural being in the bond as not."

He huffed a little, dropping the crook of his arm comfortingly over his eyes. "That's easy for you to say. Merlin, it feel's like someone's cracked open my head and exposed my brain directly to the world."

"That is a strange thought," Tsu'tey said. And thinking back it sort of was. It had a level of morbidity that didn't usually come up in Na'vi conversation. Great, he'd needed another thing to set him apart. There was a rustle of leaves as Tsu'tey moved to sit beside him.

"Give me a minute," He said, "I almost feel like I might be able to open my eyes without fainting now."

Tsu'tey chuckled, nudging him with his knee. "I will carry you back to the hometree if it is that bad. But I think you are just teasing me."

He peeked through the gap beneath his arm at Tsu'tey, quickly closing his eyes again when his vision swam, somehow expecting grayscale and startled when he got colour. "If I die you'll have to tell Mo'at it was your fault," He muttered.

"I will never live down the shame." Tsu'tey said will all solemnity. He couldn't see Tsu'tey's face but he could just imagine it. Mouth set in a firm line, golden eyes unbowed and determined beneath the heavy weight of duty. A sneaky peek beneath his arm showed him Tsu'tey was grinning at him, smile radiant and cheeky.

"You're laughing at me," He moaned, just to make Tsu'tey laugh. It worked. Tsu'tey chuckled beneath his breath, flicking a nearby fern frond at his face. He scowled, wriggling away from it, but in the end he was still smiling too.


	5. Chapter 4 - He

The messengers Eytukan sent to the other clans returned one by one in the next weeks, each one bringing back a negative response. Kekuna'an. Siwana'ate. Tohorak. Atinikya. None of the clans had heard of him. Three days after the last the final messenger returned. She stood before Eytukan and shook her head. "The Ni'awve have lost no children. I am sorry. The have no knowledge of him."

He wasn't surprised by the result. He's been suffering a low level of dread of his moment ever since he came to the Omaticaya. He's not a member of the Omaticaya, nor a member of any of the other clans. His path from here is uncertain and he's not sure he wants to know where it leads.

Eytukan solemnly thanked the woman for her work, welcoming her back home. He doesn't look surprised at the news. It had been an open secret among the clan that they would surely have heard if a child had gone missing from a nearby clan. They would have been notified - if not to ask them for help then to warn of the possible danger.

He watches the messenger go, disappearing back into the crowd, laughter and shouts following in her wake as her family greeted her after her long absence, then turns to Eytukan. "So where do I go now?"

"That is for you to choose," Mo'at says, stepping up beside Eytukan. "If you wish to discover your path elsewhere then you are free to go. If that is not your desire... The Omaticaya would welcome you as one of our own. The clan has grown fond of you, many would be sad to see you leave."

"If you have no clan then you shall join ours." Eytukan added. "We are not so unkind a people to turn you away if you wish to stay."

"I-" Lost for words, he nodded. "Thank you. I would like that."

Mo'at smiled gently. There was a mischievous glint in her eye."Good. Then you shall have to choose a name for yourself. One would think you are a lost spirit, wandering around without a name as you are."

He blushed a little, an inadvertent smile creeping on to his lips. He nodded. "I'll try to think of something."

Mo'at pressed a warm hand to his shoulder, drawing him into a warm embrace. "Then welcome, son of the Omaticaya." Over her should her he could see Eytukan, eyes warm and approving.

When she released him it felt like a weight had been lifted over his shoulders. The constant buzz of worry that had been plaguing him for weeks was gone just like that. He hadn't noticed how much it had been weighing on him until the weight was gone and he was left free and almost floating with relief.

He was similarly met by another dozen of the Omaticaya - no, not the Omaticaya. His clansmen - when he finally broke away from Eytukan and Mo'at. Every step seemed to hold a new Na'vi waiting to press a hand to his shoulder or touch a kiss to his forehead. When he was released from the crowd, Tsu'tey and Neytiri were waiting. Neytiri threw her arm over his shoulder, almost bouncing with joy, and met him with a gleeful, "Welcome, brother!"

Tsu'tey touched his hands to his forehead, tilting his head. "I see you, my Omaticaya brother."

Despite becoming a member of the clan things didn't change much. He was moved out of the healing chambers and given a hammock high in the inner chambers of the hometree. From the bottom of the chamber you could see all the way up through the hometree and what had to be the beds of half the clan all hanging between the inner branches and paths of the hometree.

"This is just a temporary one," Tsu'tey said as he showed him how to safely swing down into it from the branch path. "We will begin making you a proper one soon. Usually you're family helps make your first one once you get old enough to sleep alone but don't worry, the clan will help. We'll show you how to do it."

For the most part he still spent his days following Tsu'tey and Neytiri around, watching them help in the daily duties of the clan and practice their archery on a line of tree's a little east of the hometree, just within the borders of the jungle. It seems to be a common spot to practice, the trunks of the trees lined with pitted scars where arrows had struck and been removed over the years. More than once youngers members of the clan join them, giggling groups of children herded around by whichever amused Na'vi whose turn it was to watch the children.

The Na'vi appeared to take a very communal approach to child rearing. From dawn until dusk the children ran in packs, playing together and sitting their lessons, individuals breaking off to join other groups at will. Half the time the Na'vi looking after them weren't even parents themselves, just clan members with time to spare who were willing to put in a few hours here and there to teach the kids a thing or two.

They had everything from weavers to singers to hunter looking after them, receiving the best teaching from each of them on any topic they cared to ask about. The only constant in their teachers seemed to be Mo'at. Everyday the groups of children would flock to her in the noon hours and listen to her sing the histories and legends of the clan. The children joined in more often than often than not, singing along as soon as they recognised the story.

He watched these lessons sometimes, lingering at the back of the group and listening with curiosity. The stories were interesting but more than that they were the histories of the clan, of __his__ clan, and that alone was enough to make him want to learn more.

The loss of his memory still niggled at him. Where these children had been learning these songs and the skills of the clan their entire lives he had nothing more than a blank slate. People kept having to stop and show him how to do things, explain things they had known almost since infancy and it made him feel... not frustrated, perhaps, but a bit useless. Learning about the clan helped sooth that feeling a bit.

It was only after weeks of attending these lessons that he gained the courage to sing along when Mo'at began a song he'd grown fond of, the story of Silawyi the first ikran rider. He sung the first few verses tentatively, looking around furtively to see if anyone had noticed, then continued with more confidence when no one looked his way.

It was a beautiful story, that of the girl, Silawyi, falling in love with the sight of the ikran flying high above. No one thought it could be done but Silawyi was determined. She returned again and again to the homes of the ikran high in the mountains and tired to befriend them, every time leaving without success, until one day an ikran looked at her. __Saw__ her right down to her spirit. Scared, it attacked, but Silawyi was fearless and strong. She fought it back, dancing along the edge of the floating cliffs, unafraid, until the ikran gave in, exhausted.

It was the first bond between a Na'vi and and Ikran. Silawyi paved the way for every Na'vi after her, and they sing songs of her strength and noble spirit in honor of it.

He fumbled the words once or twice but no one seemed to notice. He finished the song feeling rather pleased he'd managed to remember the words to almost all of it. As the song trailed off he looked up and found Mo'at smiling at him. His cheeks went hot and he looked away, embarrassed at having been caught. Soon realizing another song was not coming the children cleared away, already resuming their loud cheer of laughter and shouting as they ran back out to play.

"I had thought to wait until you were more healed to begin your lessons but now I see you have gotten a head start on me." She said, smiling wryly and settling down beside him. "It is nice to see you have a spirit eager to learn."

He ducked his head under the praise. He shrugged, trying for casual. "The clan histories are interesting. I want to know more about my clan." It felt nice to say that. His clan. The Omaticaya was his clan just as much as he was theirs.

"I see you particularly like the stories about the Ikran Makto," Mo'at said, and he didn't have to look at her to know that he wasn't fooling her at all. Mo'at was shrewd like no one he'd ever known, with a spine of steel and a wit so sharp it cut like a whip. Yet, at the same time she was caring and kind, mother to the entire clan.

He didn't try deny it. "They're very interesting."

"I think you will enjoy it when it comes your time to be Ikran Makto," Mo'at said. "Tsu'tey will have his own soon, once he has completed his first hunt." Turning her wise eyes on him she asked, "Have you given any thought to your name?"

He nodded, biting back a sigh. Choosing a name was easier said than done. He must have considered a hundred possibilities in the last few weeks, Neytiri and Tsu'tey both offering up possible suggestions, but none of them had felt right. There was something defining about a name. Once it was chosen there was no taking it back. It became you, became how people knew you , how they thought of you.

"It's not an easy choice," He sighed.

"It will come to you eventually," Mo'at said, standing. "Do not worry yourself about it."

That helped, a little, but it didn't stop him from worrying slightly when even days later he was still left without a solution, having rejected every option he managed to think up. Tsu'tey, looking more amused at anything by his preoccupation, was left dragging him about in attempt to prise him free of his thoughts.

"Come on," Tsu'tey said, leading him through the forest. He looked up, eyeing the forest curiously. It's an area they haven't come to before to the north of the hometree. A puddling river cutting tracks through the dirt, patches of vegetation springing up here and there along its trickling edges. The path Tsu'tey leads him down was worn by years of passage, the prints of the pa'li herd still visible in the dirt from where they passed.

"Where are we going?" He asks, stepping out of the way of a brilliant orange wasp dancing around a group of flowers. It has to be the size of his hand and it buzzed warningly as he passed, flexing it three wicked stingers at him threateningly.

"The river," Tsu'tey said, ducking under a large root that wound its way in a gentle slope across the patchy river clearing. It's surface was covered with springy ferns that soaked green and golden in the sunlight. He touched a finger to them as be passed, enjoying the sight of them bouncing back into place when he let them go.

"Not to the lake?" He asked. The lake bordered the eastern side of the hometree, not a stones throw from its entrance. Day and night the constant calls of the fkio could be heard from the great flocks that congregated by along the shallow edges of the lake. It was becoming a familiar sound, no longer making him turn his head, surprised, like it had in those first few days.

In the distance the ground rose up in a sudden rise, water coming down its side in a trickling waterfall. The jungle floor was rarely even, often giving falling into deep depressions that ran for miles, the jungle spanning easily between these great levels. The river continued unperturbed, pooling at the bottom of the waterfalls and continuing on, splitting into the lazy trickle that led back the way they'd come and a greater branch that ambled along through the forest towards the lake.

Already he could spot Na'vi at the river, taking advantage of the smooth stones that bordered the deeper branch of the river to sun themselves dry after swimming. Some looked positively indolent, curled up in the sun like giant cats.

As they approached a group looked up. One man grinned and raised his hand, waving them over. He was waist deep in the water, a small child paddling playfully in the water at his side, supported all the way by the man's hand. "Tsu'tey! Join us! You should have said you were coming."

"Lo'ak," Tsu'tey said nodding respectfully.

Lo'ak grinned, rolling his eyes. "You take too much after my brother, I think. One would hardly know we are family by the way you speak." When Lo'ak spotted him he grinned. "So this is your friend everyone has been talking about. Come! I will introduce you to the rest of the family."

He shot a hesitant look to Tsutey, only to find he'd already gone ahead, making straight towards Lo'ak and his family. He followed behind, not really sure whether we was intruding or not. Lo'ak smiled at him, kind lines crinkling around his eyes.

"I am Ateyo's brother."Lo'ak said. With an exaggerated huff he hauled the child out of the water. She clung to his chest, making a petulant noise and reaching her small arms back towards the water. "And this is Lallan, our daughter."

The woman sitting on the rocks beside the pair smiled fondly, inclining her head at him. "I am Klethayi, Lo'ak's mate." She sat completely naked, smooth skin bared to the sunlight, and he averted his eyes, not sure if he should be embarrassed but modest none the less. No one else seemed to think anything of it. Now that he thought about it most of the Na'vi at the river seemed to have shed their clothing at one point or another, baring themselves without embarrassment.

Tsu'tey shed his clothes without a shred of hesitation, dropping his belt and covering cloth on a stone a little away from the water, next to the neatly folded cloth and dangling necklaces that served for tops for most women of the clan. For the most part they were just decorative, the modesty they provided a mere afterthought.

Mortified at the thought of having to strip too he rushed through it, throwing himself into the water as quickly as he could and sinking until the cool water lapped at his neck. Tsu'tey raised an eyebrow at him, "I did not think you were shy."

"Shut up," He grumbled, flicking water at him. Tsu'tey just chuckled, dunking himself under the water. When he came up he was undoing his braid, wrapping the piece of twine that usually held it in place around his wrist and dipping back down to run his fingers through his hair in the water. Tsu'tey's hair had to be halfway down his back, its length in keeping with the customs of the Na'vi. From what he'd seen all members of the Omaticaya had a long braid, probably to protect the filament things they used for tsheylu.

He followed suit, scrubbing the dust and specks of dirt that came with living in the jungle off his skin and releasing his own messy braid to give his hair a wash. He'd been washing with the water brought to the healing chambers up until now but somehow that had never felt like quite enough. It was nice to finally have a good wash and get the dirt and dust out of his skin.

He lingered in the water, still too embarrassed to get out or sun on the rocks like the rest of the Na'vi. Klethayi took pity on him, reaching over and grabbing his clothes so that he could sit on the rocks with a, small as it was, covering. He'd initially been horrified when presented with one of the slim pieces of clothes a flimsy set of woven belts that served the Na'vi as clothes. He'd been forced to adapt quickly. If it was that or running around naked he'd take what he could get.

Klethayi patted the stone beside her, inviting him to join her sunning on the rocks. Lo'ak and Lallan were still splashing around in the water, Lo'ak grinning and having as much fun as his daughter. Klethayi followed his gaze and smiled, "My mate is an infant. He's far too silly for his own good. Then again... perhaps that is why I love him."

Now that he was sitting closer he could see that her hair was done up in the most intricate set of braids he'd ever seen, a dozen smaller braids leaving and rejoining a central braid, looping around each other complicated maneuvers She was in the process of tying off the last braid when he joined her, tying in the last gleaming bead. A dozen other small red beads dotting the complicated patterns of her dark hair and glinted in the sunlight like rubies in her hair. It was a beautiful effect and one that made him cringe at the state of his own hair.

A shriek of laughter came from Lallan and Lo'ak. Lo'ak was struggling to get ahold of the giggling Lallan who was trying to swim away out of her arms. Klethayi raised her eyebrow at him, looking as regal as a queen, then left him to it, unperturbed by her daughter's flighty attempts to escape her mate.

He tilted his head back to enjoy the warmth of the sun and letting his feet trail in the water. The water had stung his wounds when at first but feeling had soon given way beneath the cool touch of the river. The water was clear and clean, a relief against the sore tight skin where the scratches were beginning to scar.

"You're wounds are healing well," Klethayi noted, casting a content look over the scars on his back. She was right. The small scratched along his shoulders and arms from the spiny tree were almost completely healed, nothing left but faint raised red lines. The wounds left by the Palulukan on his back were also looking much better. They'd begun to scar over, and while the thick scars weren't pretty it hurt a lot less and that was enough for him. His foot was still saw and painful to the touch but even that had begun to heal.

"They'll look quite fetching when they heal up."

Swimming had left him in a good mood, making him more bold than usual. Amused, he turned to her. "The Na'vi have a thing for scars then?" He asked, not actually expecting an answer.

"Why not?" She said, "They are the proof that you are strong. That you survived a threat that would have killed another. It's an attractive quality in a mate. I have no doubt many people will admire them once you come of age."

"It was just luck. I barely survived," He protested. Klethayi shrugged. "Then you are in Eywa's favor. That too is an attractive quality in a mate."

"There's no way to win this is there?" He grumbled, slumping back onto the rock. It's smooth surface was warm from the sun and it felt divine against his cooling skin. He could see why so many of the Na'vi enjoyed this. Klethayi laughed, her voice like the tinkling of the river.

He stayed there a little while, basking in the sunlight. Tsu'tey had climbed up onto his own rock not too far away and was sunning himself, combing his hair with his fingers and starting to put his braids back in order. He considered doing so himself, but didn't manage more than running a hand through his messy hair before grimacing and giving up. His hair was bad enough normally, recently washed it was an utter nightmare, flyaway strands poking our in all directions.

Klethayi noticed his useless poking at his hair and hummed. "I had forgotten you had lost your memories," She said. "Braiding the queue can be difficult if you do not remember the proper method."

"There's a proper method?" He asked, baffled. "I've just been trying to tie it up."

"That won't do," Klethayi said, sitting up. The beads in her hair jingled with a low sound, like a wooden wind chime in a gusty breeze. "The queue is important. It helps protect the tswin. If you don't do it properly the tswin can end up exposed."

He winced at the very thought. The tswin, from what he'd experienced, were the pathway for tsaheylu and were connected right into the brain. They were insanely sensitive. They had to be to achieve the mental bonding they made possible so easily. He imagined what it would be like to get on of those delicate pink strands snagged on something or even ripped. His insides shriveled with horror.

Klethayi raised an eyebrow at the look on his face. "You see why it is so important." She patted the rock beside her, motioning for him to come closer. "Here, I will show you how do braid the queue properly."

Looking up, she said loudly, "Lallan, dear one, come here." Looking to him she explained. "I will demonstrate on Lallan. It is not done to touch someone's tswin unless they are your mate or children."

Lallan settled in front of her, still dripping wet and giggling, and Klethayi set to work on her hair, walking him through the process of tying up the queue step by step.

The rest of the hair can be put into the main queue too, to create one large braid, but often people choose to have separate braids. Sometimes because they like shorter hair, other times just for the look of it." Klethayi said, her fingers deftly maneuvering her daughters hair through the motions of the braid. "Now watch carefully. Tying the end to protect the tswin but the end free for tsheylu can be delicate."

He copied the final tying off she'd done on Lallan's braid on his own, breathing a happy sigh when it all settled well, leaving him with a serviceable if plain braid that hung down his back. When he looked up Tsu'tey had long finished tending to his own hair and had dressed, sitting back on the rocks at the edge of the river and watching them with amusement.

He waved his braid at Tsu'tey proudly, grinning when Tsu'tey just rolled his eyes. "I was starting to think you'd forever be running around with your hair half out."

"Yeah, yeah," He said, "You're just jealous mine looks better than yours."

Klethayi smiled, arm wrapped lovingly around Lallan's shoulder, her daughter sitting perched on her legs, looking about ready to dive back into the water if left unattended for a moment. "If you wish to learn more you need only ask." She said, "It is always a pleasure to pass on skills to those willing to learn."

He looked at her complicated braids and tried to imagine how much time and patience it must have required. She'd been braiding it since before they arrived and had only finished just before their impromptu lesson. He shook his head. "Maybe another time. A simple braid is enough for me."

The trip back to the hometree was leisurely and slow, he and Tsu'tey chatting idly as they stepped out of the way of a herd of Pa'li that had wandered back to sip the flowers growing along the lazy stretch of river. He skipped over a vein of water, avoiding the worst of the mud, and turned to Tsu'tey. "So Lo'ak is your uncle then?"

Tsu'tey frowned, giving him a blank look. "Uncle? I do not know the word."

"Oh, um." He stopped, confused. He was certain that uncle was a word. Wasn't it? He was certain it was. Looking at Tsu'tey's confused expression, he didn't know what to make of it. "You're father's brother?"

Tsu'tey nodded, expression clearing. "Ah, my semtsmukan. He is."

"They seemed very cheerful." He doesn't think Lo'ak had stopped smiling for a single moment they were there. Cheerful perhaps wasn't the right word for Klethayi. She was too regal for that. But she appeared good natured and happy enough none the less. To be honest their constant good humor and friendlyness had been a little exhausting. In contrast Tsu'tey's taciturn nature was practically soothing.

"My father and I take from his mother. Apparently my father's father was much like Lo'ak." Tsu'tey explained.

He raised an eyebrow, corner of his mouth turning up in a teasing smile. "So you're saying your personalities are inherited directly?"

Tsu'tey frowned. "That is not what I meant."

"I know," He laughed. Tsu'tey scowled, knocking him gently in the shoulder, but he could see Tsu'tey's heart wasn't in it. For all that he liked to pretend to be stern and solemn, he had a bright heart. "You used to be so quiet. Now you are forever mocking me."

"You like it."He said, rolling his eyes. "You'd be bored without me." He added, feeling bold and buoyed up by the afternoons good humor.

Tsu'tey's reply was cut off then they came within view of the hometree. There was a crowd gathered near the entrance to the hometree, the children's peals of laughter ringing through the air. Tsu'tey frowning disapprovingly.

"What is it?" He asked, confused. He glanced back at the crowd. "What's wrong?"

"The Skypeople," Tsu'tey said by way of explanation. They stopped, watching the crowd from a disatnce. He didn't say anything one way or antoher, simply angling for a better look. Among the crowd some Na'vi stood out, their clothes different from the rest, more familiar somehow. Mo'at had explained how some of the Skypeople had the ability to used Na'vi bodies, dreamwalkers they called them, but seeing it was different from believing it.

"It would ease my worries," Tsu'tey said quietly, "If you did approach them."

"You mean about how they might be responsible for what happened to me?" He said. He had to fight down the irritation at being told what to do. He'd had enough of people trying to tell him what to do, trying to protect him by keeping him in the dark and wrapping him in cotton wool. It never worked. It just put people in danger. It was the reason Sirius-

His train of thought cut off abruptly, going blank. He blinked. Sirius? What was Sirius? It felt important. __So__ important. Yet for the life of him he couldn't remember why.

"Please," Tsu'tey said, the closest he came to pleading. He all he had to do was look at Tsu'tey and his anger deflated. Feeling wrung out and tired, he nodded. He could see where Tsu'tey was coming from and he supposed it was fair enough. The Omaticaya had been good about keeping him in the loop, telling him their suspicions about the Skypeople's involvement with his past when they could easily have kept it to themselves.

It was... nice, sort of, to be trusted with all the facts. It made him feel less like he was running blind, trying to make the best of a bad situation while being pulled and pushed in all directions on a chessboard he couldn't see.

He nodded again, feeling more comfortable with it this time. "If it really makes you feel better then I'll stay away." The Skypeople were interesting. But they weren't __that__ interesting. If it truly make Tsu'tey feel better for him to stay away from them then fine.

And anyway, he thought, thinking back to what the warriors had said, if the Skypeople truly went around killing animals and burning the forest for no reason then he didn't want anything to do with them. He might have only been with the Omaticaya a short time but it was long enough to know that nature was important, __life__ was important, and he couldn't help feel a sour curdle of dislike for anyone who went about destroying either so thoughtlessly.

A minute amount of tension in Tsu'tey's shoulders melted away. He nodded tightly.

He sighed, nodding in the opposite direction than the crowd around the Skypeople. "Come on then. If I have to avoid the Skypeople we might as well find something else to do rather than just standing around being disagreeable."


	6. Chapter 5 - Isonali

He leaned back against a fallen log, watching Neytiri and Tsu'tey fire off arrow after arrow. They hit bullseye almost every time, sharp stone arrowheads driving home deep into the wood.

They'd towed him out of bed early that morning, ignoring his grumbling protests for more sleep and dragging along to their morning training. The sun had risen high in the sky since then, Neytiri and Tsu'tey both continuing with no indication of stopping any time soon. It had been exciting at first, watching them aim and fire so flawlessly, but there was only so much excitement he could muster when he wasn't able to try for himself.

Mo'at said he still wasn't allowed heavy exercise. Anything beyond hobbling around slowly was out of the question. Even his walks were supposed to be interspersed with equal period of resting his foot. He slumped back against the log, making himself comfortable in the warm sunlight. It seemed to sap the strength right out of him, leaving him floppy and relaxed.

Being injured sucked but he had to admit that this wasn't so bad.

The arrhythmic sound of the arrows striking was almost therapeutic. He could hear the faint bellowing of an angtsik herd somewhere distant in the jungle and the scratching of burrowing insects and beetles deep within the wood of the log beneath him.

He must have dozed off at some point because he was woken by a shadow appearing above him, blocking his patch of sunlight. He blinked, squinting up at the figure, the dark outline resolving into a recognizable figure. He sat up. "Ateyo."

"I apologize for disturbing you," Ateyo said, "I was not aware you were asleep."

He waved him off, rubbing a hand across his face to get rid of the last lingering vestiges of sleep. Tsu'tey and Neytiri were still practicing, though with them that could mean anything from hours to minutes had passed. They were weird like that.

He shook his head, a little embarrassed at being caught so blatantly napping in the middle of the day. "It's fine. I would have woken up soon anyway." Probably.

"May I?" Ateyo asked, motioning to the log beside him. When he nodded Ateyo sat down. Even sitting he was a good head and shoulders taller than him. "Mo'at has said you have taken an interest in the ways of the clan."

"I have enough to catch up on that I figured I should make a start." He said. With Ateyo sitting the sun had returned and he had to fight the urge to tilt his head back and just bask in the sunlight once more. Pushing himself further upright he shook himself, focusing on the conversation.

"You're injuries still prevent you from starting many of the teachings,"Ateyo said, looking at him considering "But Mo'at suggested that you wished to begin learning none the less. I would offer myself as a tutor."

"You'll teach me?" He asked, sitting up. He nodded towards Tsu'tey and Neytiri. "Archery? And how to ride the pa'li?"

"Not yet." Ateyo said. "Not until your wounds are healed. But there are other things I can teach you. There are many things that are perhaps not as exciting as riding the pa'li or learning to fire straight and steady, but they are just as useful. And," he added, "when Mo'at says you are ready, archery and riding too."

"I would be honored." He said, glancing at Neytiri and Tsu'tey. Anything was better than just watching those two practice for hours until he fell asleep. He looked back to Ateyo. "When do we start?"

Looking a little taken aback by his eagerness, Ateyo said "If it would please you - tomorrow."

The next few weeks passed in a busy bustle of learning with Ateyo and hanging out with Tsu'tey and Neytiri. Ateyo met him early every morning, leading to different areas of the hometree each day for their lessons. He was a good teacher, patient and thorough, willing to devote hours to answering his questions even down to the tiny minutiae of the hows and whys and whats of every question he could think of.

Forest lore. Edible plants and forest creatures. Clan customs. How to tie his belts so that they stayed tight and firm. The Na'vi clans and their histories. Ateyo taught him anything and everything he thought to ask after, and even some things he didn't.

"Once you have undergone Iknimaya and Unaltiron you will become a man of the clan. Then you will have the right to carve your bow from the wood of the hometree." Ateyo said, letting him examine his bow. "Until then you will use a bow made from the great forest trees. You must learn to make one."

He ran a curious finger over the length of the bow. The wood was thick and strong, sturdy, its surface covered with a detailed array of carved decorations. Geometric patterns ran down the length of the bow and near the grip the image of a creature was carved painstakingly into the wood. It was one of those hammerhead creatures he'd seen in the jungle.

"It is my spirit," Ateyo said, noticing his interest. "An angtsik. It came to me during my Unaltiron, as yours will someday come to you during yours."

Ateyo had led him into the forest after that, selecting a strong tree a little while off from the hometree. Carving out a long block of wood had been an arduous process, all the while Ateyo explaining how and why the specific section of wood chosen was best. It was hard going, the two of them painstakingly etching a cut through the firm wood.

"The wood affects the nature of the bow," Ateyo said, brushing a patch of moss out of the way and digging his dagger into the surface of the branch, slowly stripping back part of the bark layer. "Strong. Springy. Rigid or flexible. It all depends on the woods species, position and age."

Even after they extracting a long piece of wood and had returned to the hometree the process remained slow and time consuming. The work advanced at a snails pace and he spent hours slowly carving the bow into the correct shape under Ateyo's careful instruction.

Seeing the bow start to take shape beneath his hands, rough shape starting to become visible, was more gratifying than he would have expected. The surface was still coarse and uneven, the ridges and cuts in the wood visible in it's shadows when he tilted it. Sometime before he went to bed he watched the glow of the moss light up it's imperfections from where it hung tied to the end of his hammock, wondering just how it could feel in his hand once it was finished. It was a visible sign of his progress since joining the clan and he could not say it did not please him to see it become a little better every day.

The muscles in his arms strained painfully after a couple of hours work, his fingers becoming stiff and sore. They worked on it intermittently, Ateyo stopping him whenever he noticed him grimacing.

"It is time for another lesson I think." Ateyo would say when his fingers began to slip to close to the knife.

"I can still work," He protested, not quite feeling satisfied with the day's work. Just a little more and he'd be happy. He wanted to smooth out that nick near the grip and fix that kink near the middle, then maybe-

Ateyo shook his head, "It serves no purpose to work beyond the point of pain. The bow will wait for you and your body will thank you for it later." Ateyo often moved onto other lessons after that, though just as often if they were nearing midday he would release him to do as he pleased.

His motives for devoting so much time to making the bow were not so straight forward as he liked to pretend. Tsu'tey had been more busy lately. With his coming of age and an Iknimaya looming in the distance his time revolved more and more around that. The hunters had begun inviting him along on scouting parties too, following the progress of a talioang herd in preparation of the upcoming hunt.

"We got news from one of the aerial hunters that a herd has been spotted within Omaticaya lands." Tsu'tey explained during the morning meal, the rest of the hunters trickling down through the hometree one by one and gathering for the day's work. The flicking of his tail behind him belayed Tsu'tey's excitement. "We're going to search for them today."

Tsu'tey's excitement was contagious. Even if he wasn't quite sure about all this hunting and killing business he couldn't help but feel happy for Tsu'tey. If they found the herd then Tsu'tey was sure take part in the hunt. It would be the final proof he was ready for the coming Iknimaya.

A call from the lead hunter summoned the group. Tsu'tey looked up, quickly finishing off the last of his meal before standing. "I must go."

"Good luck." He said. Tsu'tey nodded, his expression all too serious. He was far too used to Tsu'tey's taciturn nature and he just grinned, bumping Tsu'tey's shoulder. "Bring me back the biggest one, yeah? All those hours of training better be worth it."

Tsu'tey huffed, throwing him off gently. All the same, he was smiling. "We shall see."

He watched the hunters leave the hometree, waving at Tsu'tey trailed out, the last of the group to leave. Tsu'tey looked back and gave a short nod before he too left. He finished the rest of his breakfast, helping several of the older clan members collect up all the bowls and take them to the lake for washing. Ateyo found him not much later to start their daily lesson,

After Ateyo released him he wandered around the hometree aimlessly, just watching people go about their day to day lives. The weavers were singing again, working on their great project, and he could hear the children playing in the high ferns outside the hometree. These were his people. His clan. It still felt odd to think that and he couldn't deny the flush of happiness that accompanied the thought.

His clan. His _family._ Yes, it was a nice thought.

He ambled out of the hometree, almost wondering if he should go find Ateyo and ask for another lesson. With Tsu'tey away he was left bereft of company. Even Neytiri was busy, off attending her own lessons with Mo'at.

"Sylwanin is to be the next tsahik, not me," Neytiri had said. "But mother insists I learn it anyway. Not healing, that is not the job of the tsahik - mother is a special case, interested in many things - but the ways and methods of Eywa. That is what she teaches us."

With Neytiri and Tsu'tey out of the equation his circle of acquaintances was pitifully small. Mo'at and Eytukan were out of the question of course - they had the running of the clan on their shoulders as well as a dozen other responsibilities that required their attention. They were far too busy for him to go bother them. Plus they still intimidated him a little. They weren't scary, per say, but he was always very conscious he was before the village leaders when he was around them. Klethayi and Lo'ak were also an option, but he didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable just popping up out of the blue.

"You're about to step on my tail." Someone hissed from beside him and he stopped, looking down to find a woman sitting half hidden among the ferns. She had to be a couple of years older than him, in her twenties at least. There was a string of a dozen intricately carved beads and sleek feathers lying across her legs and she was in the process of adding another to the line.

Looking down it was apparent that his foot was indeed only inches from her tail. He stepped back carefully. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

The woman huffed, rolling her eyes and turning away without another word. She inspected the unfinished necklace closely, lifting it to the light, before scowling at the knot holding one feather in place and slipping the last bead back off, untying it to redo the knot. The sting seemed to dance between her fingers and within moments the feather was reaffixed and she was slipping the bead back into place, tying that off too with a clever knot.

"If you're gawk at me you might as well sit down," She said, not even looking up from her work. "You're blocking the light. This is hard enough without working blind."

"Oh, um-" Should he go? She had said to sit down but she didn't sound like she wanted company. Hesitating, he hovered there.

"Sit down." She snapped. So he did. He dropped down beside her, careful to move out of the way of the sunlight. From down there the ferns seemed to block out the whole world, rising around them in a cradle of gently swaying green, the sky visible through the gaps of their reaching fronds. The ground was cool beneath him, the smaller opportunistic grasses and young ferns growing where they could, shadowed by their greater kin. They tickled his skin with every breath of wind.

It was... nice. He almost felt alone here. The solitude was almost blissful after the loud hustle and bustle of the clan. While everyone was friendly, it sometimes felt like he hadn't had a moment to himself since he'd first woken up in the healing chambers.

The woman seemed to share the feeling because they settled into an easy silence, only broken by her occasional noises of irritation when the tricky knots of the necklace went awry. When a bead slipped off the end off the string before she could secure it she cursed, pushing the necklace at him as she peered around trying to find it. "Hold that!"

When she sat back up, bead safely in hand, he offered the necklace back to her. She took it, nodding briskly, then went back to work wriggling the bead back into place. They returned into silence.

A little while later the ferns rustled and parted, letting through a Na'vi man. He paused at the sight of him, a look of surprise evident of his face. Then he smiled, nodding amicably to him. He turned to the woman, sounding blindingly happy. "Saheli! I am so proud. You have made a friend!"

"Quiet," The woman, Saheli, said, giving the man an impressive scowl. "You took your time in coming back. I'm almost out of materials." She forcefully thrust the necklace at him.

"You worked on it?" He said, examining the necklace. He didn't seem to even seeming to notice her foul temper. Now that he looked it was clear that the part Saheli had been working on was much neater than the rest of the piece, the earlier bit's knots being sloppier and slightly uneven.

The man smiled gratefully. "You did not have to."

She scoffed. "You were taking so long it was driving me insane."

"You just don't like to admit you're a caring and helpful friend," The man said. He dropped down beside Saheli and, turning to him, nodding welcomingly. "I am Tsamui, and this-" He motioned at the woman."-is Saheli. I doubt she has introduced herself. It is nice to meet you..."

"Don't be an idiot," Saheli said scathingly, but her words had no bite. It was more of a fond scolding than anything. "This is Ateyo and Tsu'tey's boy. The one they found in the forest. He's still choosing his name."

"I apologize " Tsamui said. He sounded truly sorry for it too. It was enough to make him feel guilty himself.

"It's no problem. I um- I've been having trouble choosing a name." He said sheepishly. Tsamui nodded sympathetically.

"I imagine it is difficult indeed."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it." Saheli said. She turned to Tsamui, eyes narrowing accusing. "What I want to know is what took you so long. You ran into Emyi'ti, didn't you?"

Tsamui didn't answer her. Very purposefully he untied a small pouch made from a thick leaf sewed closed with thick thread attached to his belt, taking a bead from within and turning to work on the necklace. It didn't fool anyone. His cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red.

Saheli grinned savagely. "I knew it!" She turned to him, eyes narrow. "This idiot-"She jerked her thumb towards Tsamui, who was still trying to pretend the entire conversation wasn't happening. "-is pining like a teenage boy. _Pining._ But he won't even talk to them."

"I'm not pining." Tsamui interrupted quietly. Saheli talked right over him, barreling on like a herd of stampeding angtsik. "Even now he's making Emyi'ti a gift, that bloody necklace, but he won't ever give it to him will he? It's ridiculous!"

Tsamui pushed a bead around, looking forlorn and uncomfortable. Saheli gave no quarter, pushing on ruthlessly. "You'll have to talk to him sometime you know. You turn into a stuttering mess every time he so much as glances your way. He's not totally oblivious - he'll notice it eventually."

"I don't stutter." Tsamui mumbled, blush only intensifying. "I talked to him perfectly fine earlier."

He was left sitting awkwardly between them, wondering if he should say something or just excuse himself from the conversation. Tsamui looked ready to sink into the ground with utter mortification while Saheli narrowed her eyes at him, vicious and determined as shark following blood in the water.

"I could go." He offered awkwardly only for Tsamui to shake his head, somehow looking even more mortified. He hadn't even thought that was possible.

"No, no." Tsamui said. "Do not leave on account of us." He shot a disapproving look at Saheli, looking more annoyed at her attitude driving him off than the fact she'd just been grilling him ruthlessly. "The topic has been exhausted."

"You'll have to talk to him sometime - _properly_ talk to him - and when you do I'll just point and laugh_."_ Saheli said, a final parting shot, before settling into mutinous silence. Now free of the necklace she pulled out a couple of lengths of woven twine, tying them off and beginning a new weave.

Tsamui ignored her with an air of long suffering practice, turning to him with a friendly smile. "You joined the Omaticaya recently then? How are you faring?"

He shrugged. "There's a lot to learn but-" He paused, unsure and a little awkward. Tsamui looked up from his knotting, prompting him to go on, so he continued. "Ateyo has been teaching me. He's showing me how to make my first bow. It's almost ready for bending now."

"I remember making my own," Tsamui said fondly, slipping another bead onto the end of the necklace. "I'm afraid I wasn't very good at it. It snapped and I ended up having to start from scratch."

Oh Merlin. That could happen? The thought was unsettling. He'd spent hours painstakingly carving the bow. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to see it break just like that and have to start again. His distress must have shown because Tsamui was quick to reassure him.

"It was a rare case," Tsamui said, sounding more amused than anything "I'm afraid I'm rather a hopeless case when it comes to carving. I've no aptitude for it at all. Even the simplest cravings were disaster. It made my teachers despair, eventually they just gave up teaching me."

With that his bow was out of the prospect of immanent danger, a great relief make no mistake, he moved on. "I think I really like it here," He continued. "The clan is good. There's no pressure or anything. It's a nice change. Relaxing."

Saheli caught the slip, eyes narrowing. "A nice change from what?"

"I don't know."He rubbed his forehead. He was so tired of this constant mental frustration It was exhausting. He sighed. "It's just a feeling I suppose."

Still smiling jovially, Tsamui elbowed Saheli in the side. She scowled at him, muttering insults beneath her breath but let the topic drop none the less. He relaxed a little, happy to move on. He preferred not to dwell on his memory. I didn't help anything and it just put him in a sour mood.

He stayed with Saheli and Tsamui for a good couple of hours. Despite their constant bickering they were rather good company. They balanced each other out, Tsamui smoothing over Saheli's abrasive temper and her prying him out of his polite shell and livening him up a little. At some point he found himself wrangled into helping with their weaving, carefully winding together the thread fibers the way Saheli had shown him to produce a single thicker thread - just something to keep his hands busy as they talked. For the most part it was all gossip, who'd had had a spat with who and the news about what the other clan's had gotten up to.

"The Kekuna'an have a new Olo'ekytan," Saheli said. "A woman by the name of Wi'erya. The last had no children so they held a selection - apparently she beat a dozen of her clan's strongest warriors for the right to be chosen."

"Wait, so the Kekuan-" "Kekuna'an," Tsamui corrected gently. "-fight to see who will be their leader?" He asked. It seemed... barbaric was the wrong word, but something along those lines. Harsh at the least and unwise at the worst. There was no guarantee that those who were strongest were the best suited to lead a clan.

"The Kekunan are a fierce people. They live beside the sea and fly the storms, hunting the creatures beneath the waves like we hunt those of the jungle. It is a harder life than inside the jungle and they pride themselves on it." Saheli said, a definite note of admiration in her voice.

"Though," Tsamui added, "it is not the fight that determines the winner, just the candidates. They then present themselves before the Olo'ekytan and it is he who decides from there who will be the next leader. It is not so different from here. If the Oloekytan and Tsahik had not had their daughters then they would have chosen members of the clan to take their place when the time came. "

When he left sometime later they were still bickering. Saheli was grumbling about her brother, who'd apparently just recovered from a mild illness and was driving her up the wall with his renewed energy. Still, for all her insults he could tell she was relieved he was well once again.

Just as he turned to leave, bidding them goodbye, Saheli spoke up. "Isonali."

He turned, blinking at her. "Sorry?"

"For your name. Isonali." She said, throwing the word around as if it were nothing more than a token gesture. She turned away again quickly, eyes going back to her work. "Not that I care either way."

"It is a name for someone with a good soul. A free spirit." Tsamui explained, smiling fondly. He wasn't at all taken in by her pretense at indifference. "Saheli is right. It suits you."

"Isonali." He said, testing the feeling of the name in his mouth. It felt new and unfamiliar but also... right, somehow. A free spirit, huh? He nodded to Saheli, who by all appearances was ignoring him completely. "Thank you. I like it."

As he walked away through the ferns he heard Tsamui say, more than a little amused, "You must have put a lot of though into that. It was a nice thing."

"Shut up." Was Saheli's gruff response.

When he told Mo'at she simply nodded and said, "It is a good choice. The name will serve you well I think."

The news of his chosen name spread like a wildfire through the clan after that, prompting another around of greetings from what seemed to be half the clan, each one welcoming him with his new name.

It was late in the afternoon by the time the hunters afternoon. When the first returned, panting and grinning, shouting of a successful hunt and sending up a great buzz among the clan.

Isonali followed Mo'at down to the main chamber of the hometree, following the rest of the crowd heading towards the returned hunter. Apparently a successful talioang hunt would be enough to feed the clan days, supplementing their food stores by a great deal and providing a great bounty of other goods.

Nothing would be wasted. The Na'vi did not take life lightly, and when they hunted they used everything they could from the corpse rather than waste a single thing.

"Anything else would be ungrateful," Mo'at said. "Disrespectful towards the life that was taken and an insult to Eywa. Killing is a sad thing, we do not do it lightly."

Drawn in by the excitement of the crows, Isonali ended up joining one of the large parties setting off to meet the hunters and help harvest the kills. An adult talioang was too large to be moved easily and had to be processed where it had been killed, the body gutted and cleaned on the spot and the meat cut up for transport back to the hometree.

A passing Na'vi offered him a hand up onto their pa'li, letting him ride behind them for the trip there. It took perhaps half an hour to ride there, further than he'd ever been from the hometree before, expect for those first wild days wandering around in the forest. After a while the uneven terrain of the jungle gave way to a valley, large sluggish rivers moving in shallow trails along the wide floor of the valley in what was probably the closest approximation to open plains to be found.

They could hear them before they saw them. An earlier party of Omaticaya had already set to work on the talioang and the chatter of the group could be heard before they came into view. What hit him next was the scent of blood. The air was practically lousy with it, the unpleasant smell of ichor from the gutting adding a gruesome undertone to the thick scent of blood.

Even dead the size of the talioang was astounding. There were three of them - two large adults and a juvenile bull. Lying prone, muscles lax, they were almost a head and shoulders taller than him, mountains of thickset muscle and horn.

The Na'vi seemed to know exactly what to do because they quickly set to work, each going to their own tasks as if they'd done it a thousand times before. And perhaps they had. From what he'd heard large hunts like this were annual, sometimes even seasonal occurrences The sight of the Na'vi elbow deep in the talioang was more than a little gruesome the scent alone enough to make him more than slightly nauseous.

He managed to figure out something of a compromise. The smell he could deal with, and as long as he didn't look too closely at just what they were doing he was fine.

"Ah! I had not thought you would come." Tsu'tey said, dodging through the growing crowd to reach him. He looked tired but proud. Most alarmingly, however, was the blood smeared down the side of his head, a frightening amount of it drying on his neck and down his shoulder.

Isonali gaped. "What happened to you?

"What- Oh this." Tsu'tey said, brushing it off. "A small wound. It is nothing."

"Nothing? A piece of your ear is missing!" Isonali said, yanking him closer to get a better look. The wound wasn't as bad as it first looked. A small part of the shell of his left ear had been cut away, leaving a gap no more than a centimeter or two across in total missing from the rim. It seemed to have stopped bleeding already. Tsu'tey didn't appear to be in much pain.

Tsu'tey smiled sheepishly. "Truly it's not so bad. I'm sorry I worried you. But look. Here." He motioned to one of the larger talioang, a strong bull with stout pair of horns, a spear buried deeply in the narrow breathing holes on it's neck. With a quirk of his lips asked, "Is this one big enough for you."

Isonali rolled his eyes, "Well. I was hoping for bigger. But this one will have to do." He glanced at Tsu'tey and smiled. "Really though, good job."

Mo'at ambushed them when they returned to the hometree, ushering them up to the healing chambers to take a look at Tsu'tey's ear. One of her assistants helped him wash the blood off and Mo'at inspected the wound, frowning, before covering the edge of the wound with a pale paste similar to what she'd used to fight off his infection.

"It is not serious," Mo'at said, finally letting them go. "But we shall have to watch it. Even a small wound can be lethal if sickness sets in."

It took the rest of the afternoon for the clan to process the talioang completely. The clan seemed to work in a frenzy, busier than a colony of ants. Isonali and Tsu'tey got roped into helping around, riding back and forth from the hometree to fetch wrappings for the meat and helping set up racks to smoke the meat outside the hometree.

"Everyone's in such a rush," He said when they took a breather beside one of the smoking fires, upwind of it to avoid the worst of the smoke. He felt like he'd done more work in the last few hours than in the last couple of weeks and he was made to feel it. His leg was starting to throb painfully from all the running back and forth and it was a relief to get off it. Nobody seemed to mind their absence. But then what had to be a good fraction of the clan was helping out, enough that the loss of two people wasn't even noticed.

"It's better to get it all done before nightfall," Tsu'tey said, "Before nantang or other creatures are attracted by the scent of blood. Whatever is left behind will be scavenged in the night."

Someone had started playing the drums early in the afternoon and it only grew louder as the evening wore on. The choice parts of the talioang had been collected early on and the clan had set to work cooking up a feast, tempting smells drifting out of the hometree all afternoon. All the fires had been lit, unsusal for an evening meal, and it cast the roots of the hometree in a warm glow.

He spotted Tsamui at one point, blushing and smiling shyly at a man Isonali recognized as one of Mo'at's apprentice healers. The infamous Emyi'ti probably. Saheli was there too, never far from Tsamui side. When she spotted him she rolled her eyes, gesturing towards Tsamui with an air of exasperation as if to say 'you see what I have to deal with?'.

Tsu'tey followed his gaze, curious. Isonali shrugged, "Saheli and Tsamui. They're sorta fun, even if they can't seem stop bickering for more than two seconds at a time."

The feast, when it started, was a lively affair. The whole clan was crammed into the ground chamber, spilling out through the wide roots of the hometree and into the open night. Fires blazed high into the sky and air was filled with the cheerful beat of music. A dozen other Na'vi had joined that first drummer, coming together to create a veritable orchestra with flutes, drums and a large stringed contraption that made the most marvelous strumming sounds. People sang as they danced, laughing together as they spun and stamped their feet, chapping along to the music.

Neytiri appeared through the crowd and, laughing, dragged Tsu'tey into the dance. He grumbled the entire way there but joined the dance easily enough, clasping hands with the other dancers and laughing as they twisted and turned around the fire. Isonali clapped along, grinning until his cheek ached. His leg may have prevented him from joining the dance but he enjoyed it all the same. The Omacaya were just so genuinely happy. The feeling was infectious.

Tsu'tey flopped down beside him sometime later, looking tired but happy. Once the excitement of the hunt had worn off the day's hard work had begun to take its toll on him. He almost drooping, looking ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the next two days. Not that he would ever admit it, soldiering on proudly as always through pain and fatigue.

They were nibbling on a pair of succulent skewers of tender talioang meat, already quite full but managing to make just a little more room when presented with the treat, when Eytukan approached. Seeing him coming Isonali finished off the last of his in two quick bites, Tsu'tey had already finished his and laid the empty skewer aside. He moved to stand but Eytukan raised a hand, gesturing for him to remain seated.

"You have done well, Tsu'tey." Eytukan said. There was a distant sort of approval in his eyes and, though not much by other people's standards, from Eytukan it meant a great deal. "You have proven yourself a fine hunter."

"Mo'at has been long saying you are ready and now, with such a prize to your name, the rest of the clan see's it too." Eytukan said, inclined his head. "The preparations for your Iknimaya will begin tomorrow."

"It is a great honor," Tsu'tey said, standing to give Eytukan a respectful nod. Isonali scrambled up after him, doing the same. Eytukan regarded them, amused, then turned and left, stopping only to take his own skewer of meat when offered before disappearing through the crowd. Tsu'tey watched him go, his composure unwinding a little more with each passing second. He was fighting to keep his face blank, little hints of excitement breaking through his solemn facade.

Isonali didn't even bother trying to hide his excitement, grinning openly. "Congratulations."

Neytiri came dancing up to them, appearing through the crowd to the sound of laughter. She dropped down next to Tsu'tey, pulling him into a tight hug, and then tugged him to his feet. She dragged him into a happy dance, spinning them around, laughing all the while. "Iknimaya, Tsu'tey! Congratulations!" Tsu'tey's cold facade couldn't hold up under the onsluaght and he found hismelf laughing too, grinning helplessly as she dragged him into a spin.

The rest of the dancers were returning in this direction, the step sequence of their large circle taking them around the fire back towards them. Neytiri and Tsu'tey's small pair was absorbed into the greater group, linking hands to the sound of song and laughter. Neytiri looked back, grinning at him. "Join us!"

Amused, he shook his head. "I'm rubbish at dancing. Really."

"That doesn't stop Tsu'tey!" Neytiri broke away from the group. She took his hand, tugging gently. "Come on," she laughed, smiling at him until he gave up and let her pull him to his feet and into the dance.


	7. Chapter 6 - Isonali

The preparations for the Iknimaya lasted the next few days. Tsu'tey was one among several other young men and women who'd been deemed ready to take part in the journey. They seemed to spend all their time preparing, meeting with several of the more experienced clan warriors and learning how to subdue and bond their Ikran once they reached the aryam alusing, the floating mountains.

"Do the mountains really fly?" He asked, unable to restrain his curiosity. He was putting the finishing touches to his bow before bending, keeping Tsu'tey company as he prepared for the Iknimaya. Even for him the idea of floating mountains seemed unbelievable. He had a hard time picturing it. The closest he got was a ridiculous image of a whole island sitting on the clouds, stone peaks poking up over the top like tiny spires.

"I forget you have not been to the tree of souls," Tsu'tey said, saying the name with a level of reverence usually reserved when discussing Eywa, and Isonali resolved to ask Mo'at about it later. It was becoming something of a habit to go ask her whenever had new queries about Eywa and the Na'vi religion. He'd tried asking Ateyo at first, hesitant to bother Mo'at, but Ateyo had simply shaken his head and said "I am no Tsahik. I would not be able to explain it well enough to do the Great Mother justice."

"You can see the lower aryam alusing from the tree of souls. They float around it, above it for miles in all directions, held there by Eywa's will." Tsu'tey said, setting aside the whip like length of vine he would use to catch the Ikran's head. "The tree of souls is... an important place. Once you are a better rider perhaps I shall take you there."

"You're never going to forget about that, are you?"Isonali said, carefully shaving a small sliver of wood from the tip of his bow. It was almost done. Almost. There were just a few small things left he wanted to fix up and then he'd be ready for the next step. "It was my first tsaheylu. I think it went well, all things considered."

Tsu'tey just shot him a wry look, flicking out the vine again and snaring it around the narrow trunk of a nearby plant perfectly. The vine shut tight, binding to itself firmly around the wood until Tsu'tey gently pried it open, starting again. He make it look effortless. The one time Tsu'tey had offered him to try it the whip had gone coiling around the tree at an angle, end jerking out of his hand. A moment later it had slipped uselessly to the ground, not getting the grip on itself needed to give it strength. Tsu'tey had offered it to him again but he'd shaken his head, more amused than disappointed, and gone back to working on his bow.

He was eager to get it finished. Ateyo had started showing him some of the basic positions and movements of archery, Neytiri letting them use her own training bow as she watched on. Ateyo's was too big for him, the draw far too heavy for a someone without his years of experience and skill.

The scars on his back had stung uncomfortably when he went to draw, no arrow nocked on the string, just getting used to the weight of it. Ateyo had corrected his position here and there, lifting his elbow and shifting his posture slightly. Within a minute of holding the bow drawn his arms started aching something fierce. He manage to hold through it for a little while before the discomfort forced him to release the draw with a grimace. Ateyo just nodded knowingly, telling him to do it again when the pain had faded a little.

"You better watch out, Tsu'tey," Isonali said. "You might be one step ahead now but I'm going to catch up to you. You just watch." He said it jokingly but there was a part of him that meant it. Being behind Tsu'tey wasn't bad, he wasn't jealous or anything, but watching him take that next step forward while Isonali was still trying to get his legs under him made him feel his own lack of progress. He wanted to get up and start moving forward, become Tsu'tey's equal and a proper member of the clan.

The clan had given him so much. A home, friends, even what he would tentatively call a family. He wanted to give something back, and the first step in doing that was in gaining the skills so vital to clan life. After that, well. After that it was just a matter of improvement.

Spotting Ateyo coming from the direction of the hometree he set aside his bow, tucking the small carving knife Ateyo had given him into the hard sheath tied to his belt. It was not even half the size of the daggers worn by most of the adult members of the clan, warriors, hunters and others alike, but the style of wearing it was the same. Ateyo had showed him how to tie and wear it safely.

"It is time," Ateyo said. "The final preparations must be made."

Tsu'tey nodded, slipping the vine whip into his own belt. Ateyo paused upon seeing him, adding. "You may join us if you like, Isonali. It is usually done within the close family but we would be glad to have you."

Isonali hesitated, looking to Tsu'tey. Tsu'tey nodded in agreement, gesturing for him to join them. Isonali stood, picking up his half-finished bow, and jogged after them, falling into step beside Tsu'tey. Ateyo led them high into the hometree, into an empty chamber not far from the great cavern where the sleeping hammocks hung.

There were a set of small wooden bowls sitting on the cavern floor on the far side of the cavern and Ateyo went to collect them, handing one to Isonali to hold when he came back. Inside was thick colourful paste in bright yellow, just wet enough to be sightly liquid. Ateyo set his bowls down and indicated for Tsu'tey to sit.

Dipping a finger into one of the bowls, Ateyo painted a long line of white across Tsu'tey's collarbone in a curve that went around his shoulder. And then again, repeating the line on Tsu'tey's other side. Isonali watched, fascinated, as the intricate pattern began to form beneath Ateyo's careful ministrations. White seemed to be the main base of the pattern, standing out most starkly against Tsu'tey's skin. Pale green accented it here and there, small dots and lines emerging along the strong lines of white. The yellow was used sparing and only to most dramatic effect, standing out bright against the other two.

As he worked Ateyo talked. Isonali suspected it was more for his benefit than anything else. "The markings depend on many things. Age, family, what one hunted, one's chosen path - they are all reflected in the patterns used." He hovered his finger over a pair of soft green lines down Tsu'tey's back. "These are the mark of our family. I wore them at my own Iknimaya, and my father before me at his. Lo'ak too wore them, though his daughter will wear her mothers. That is the way."

Tsu'tey sat there patiently for the good hour it took Ateyo to complete the pattern and explain the meaning of each symbol. The finishing touch was a bold V in yellow across Tsu'tey brow.

"This one is only for the Iknimaya,"Ateyo said, "and once one has become Ikran Makto. After that it may be worn at will - as a symbol of accomplishment and status."

The hair came after that. Yesterday Ateyo had helped Tsu'tey shave off much of it, in the style of many men of the clan. Tsu'tey had always preferred simpler hairstyles, he was much like Isonali in that way, and he did not stray from it now. The skin on the sides of his head was left bare, main queue remaining untouched while all but a few smaller braids of hair hanging around his temple were carefully removed. Now Ateyo rebraided them with new beads that gleamed in dim flickers of light. A gift in honor of his great hunt.

"There,"Ateyo said, tying off the last bead and stepping back, "Let me see you." Tsu'tey stood, spine straight and head held high under his father's assessing gaze. He looked... fierce. The paint made him look like another person entirely. It was a side of him that Isonali had never seen before and while he couldn't say it was bad, it was certainly strange.

"Your mother would have been proud to see this day,"Ateyo said, the words barely more than a whisper. His eyes were sad, almost wistful for a moment before he brought himself back under control.

"And you?" Tsu'tey asked in a rare moment of vulnerability. Isonali shifted uncomfortably, dragging his eyes to the floor. This was an intimate family moment between father and son and he felt entirely out of place. He was an intruder in the scene. The only keeping him from practically fleeing from the chamber was that doing so would further disrupt the moment further.

"I have never been prouder," Ateyo says, a genuine tone of affection and warmth in his voice. Seeing Ateyo so open was a rare occurrence - even Tsu'tey in his full proud sternness was nothing on Ateyo - and it was all the more precious for it. He laid a hand on Tsu'tey's shoulder, drawing him into an encompassing hug. Isonali barely heard his next words, so quiet was his voice. "I would have no other as my son."

A horn sounded from the center of the hometree, echoing hauntingly up through it's twisting spirals until the whole hometree seemed to vibrate with the sound. Ateyo released Tsu'tey, stepping back.

"It is time."

They descended through the hometree. As they neared the gathered crowd Tsu'tey nodded at him, looking determined and pleased. He did not looked worried or nervous, but that just made Isonali worry in his stead. Sure experienced hunters would be there to guide them through the Iknimaya but even then it was a dangerous process. Ikran were strong and fast, fiercely determined to stay free. More then one hopeful participant had died attempting to bond one.

Tsu'tey had developed something of a knack for knowing when Isonali was worried, having learnt far too easily, in Isonali's opinion, his habit of bottling his worries inwards rather than talk about them. Now was no different. He laied a reassuring hand on Isonali's arm, leaving it there for a brief moment before clapping him more firmly on the shoulder.

"When I come back I shall be a man. " He said. Continuing seriously, he added. "Perhaps then I'll be able to finally teach you how to properly ride a pa'li."

"You wish," Isonali said, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling. "By the time you come back I'll have it mastered and already moved on. Don't think I'm going to go lazing around now that my leg's almost healed."

"I look forward to it." Tsu'tey said, a glimmer of amusement of in his eye.

The horn sounded again, summoning Tsu'tey and the other hopefuls. The other participants of the Iknimaya drifted out of the crowd from where they'd been giving their farewells to their families. The trek to the floating mountains would take several days and for many it would be the first time they'd spent so long away from the shelter of the hometree. Already most of them had gathered before Mo'at and Eytukan, joining the older warriors who were waiting for them. Tsu'tey moved to join them but Isonali stopped him.

"Just- Be careful." It was the least he could stay without blurting out the messy tangle of his creeping fears and worries. That something would go wrong. That Tsu'tey would get hurt or worse, and Isonali would be left adrift once more. His first friend in the world gone. He exhaled, shoving down the feeling. He was being paranoid and he knew it.

Tsu'tey just looked at him. He nodded, completely serious. "I will do my best to return unharmed."

Isonali supposed that was the best he could hope for. The horn sounded again. Tsu'tey was the only one not with the group now. Tsu'tey nodded briskly, one final reassurance, then joined the group. They wasted no time in leaving, the warriors taking only brief moment to ensure everyone was prepared before they turned and set off through on of the hometree's great arched entrances.

"Good luck!" Isonali shouted after them, drawing startled looks from the Na'vi around him. He didn't mind. He couldn't let Tsu'tey go without saying it at least once. Tsu'tey and the group were already out of sight, disappeared out the mouth of the hometree but they must have heard him because happy calls of 'Thank you' came drifting back into the hometree.

Feeling a little embarrassed by his loud outburst, Isonali quickly quit the crowd. He'd spotted Tsamui and Saheli earlier, lingering by one of the far entrances, and he had no doubt they'd be heading out that way to find a spot for the day's work. Saheli had recently taken up the task of weaving new baskets for the clan, along with many other of the weavers who weren't working on the central tapestry.

Sure enough he spotted them by the edge of the lake, half shadowed by a patch of ferns but close enough to the water to enjoy the slight breeze that drifted across it's cool waters and cut through the hot afternoon air.

He joined them without fanfare, Saheli foisting off a tangle of fibers on him almost as soon as it arrived. It wasn't the first time she'd done it. From what he understood it was a common but dreaded part of being a weaver. Many of the plant fibers, vines and sinew that the Navi used in their weaving had the unfortunate habit of tangling horribly even when most carefully stored, leaving it an almost daily task of the apprentice weavers to ready the materials for their masters work.

"I thought becoming a full weaver would free me of it." Saheli had grumbled, sending a particularly vicious look at a unholy mess of tangled fibers "But no. It never ends."

Isonali didn't mind it too much. There was something almost therapeutic about spending an hour or two unraveling the tangles. It took just enough concentration to keep his mind from occupied but was physical enough to to not require much thought. A welcome reprieve from the dozens of concerns that seemed to otherwise crowed his head.

Tsu'tey's Iknimaya. His lost memory. The skypeople. Which path he should take within the clan. The seemingly innocent matter of whether his bow was good enough. Even when settling easily and happily into the clan life there seemed to be no end of things to worry about.

Untangling the fibers helped him take a step back from it all and just relax. Saheli had teased him about it a little, telling him he should be a weaver if he liked it that much. Isonali had just shrugged. "Not really."

While the untangling was well enough he couldn't imagine devoting the insane amount of time and energy Saheli and the other weavers did to those finicky complex pattens. It was like Klethayi and her complicated hairstyles. She enjoyed the challenge and process of it all, but Isonali couldn't scrape together the interest to do more than a simple braid. Despite his disinterest Kleathyi had managed to trap him once or twice, maneuvering him into accepting her lessons with invitations so polite it felt almost criminal to refuse. She'd taken pity on him, sticking to simpler patterns, but even those were a step above what he'd usually do for himself.

But her efforts in teaching him had paid off in the end. He'd found himself using a couple of the simpler ones once or twice, when the mood struck him after a visit to the river. It wasn't anything special - not compared to Klethayi's regal and complex styles - but it was a nice change from his usual braid.

Tsu'tey had never said anything about it. Isonali didn't know why but he'd somehow expected him to. Tsu'tey was, not manly per say, but very distinctly a guy. Yet he hadn't so much as blinked at seeing Isonali doing up his hair. His expectation of a comment, even a joking remark, was so instinctive it was almost unnatural. It had no basis in Navi way of life - Omaticaya men wore their hair just as finely as the women, sometimes more so depending on the individual - and Isonali was left to wonder where the idea had even come from.

It was just another thing to add to his list of uncertainties. Pulling the final string free of the tangle, Isonali sighed, leaning back. While relaxing, untangling was by no means easy work. Sometimes the fibers had knotted so tightly that it made his fingers ache trying to pry them apart. Nice as it was, there was always a sense of relief at having finished.

He watched the lake, enjoying a moment of calm. There were a couple of fkio not far from him, feet in the waters as they dipped their heads to the surface and ran their barbed beaks through the top water to filter out water insects. They kept their four wings spread as they did so, using the shimmer of the light against their violet skin to dazzle their prey.

Though beautiful to look at their voices were quite harsh, little more than scratchy whistles that irritated the ear. It had taken a little getting used to, always jarring at first. Now he was mostly able to filter it out. Tsamui and Saheli didn't even seem to notice, but then they'd grown up listening to the calls of the fkio, like the rest of the Omaticaya.

He spent the next couple of days mostly hanging around with Saheli and Tsamui whenever Ateyo's lessons didn't keep him busy. From what he'd been told the journey up the floating mountains took several days, though the quick journey back by flight if they were successful more than made up for it. It was a long time, all things considered, still Isonali couldn't help but wish Tsu'tey was back already. Saheli and Tsamui were nice but he missed Tsu'tey. There was something easy about hanging out with Tsu'tey that wasn't quite there with anyone else.

The sound of someone calling his name makes him start, Tsamui and Saheli both looking up from their work as well, and he looks up to find Neytiri advancing towards them through the ferns leading a group of Na'vi.

No, not Na'vi. Skypeople. Their clothes were unmistakable The way they walked was slightly different too. It wasn't quite the smooth glide of the Na'vi, who tended to avoid stepping on plants and animals without any obvious effort. These guys crashed through the undergrowth in comparison, leaving the plants disturbed and out of place.

Isonali frowned at Neytiri, a little irritated. She's known Tsu'tey didn't trust the skypeople, known that Isonali had promised to stay away from them, and yet she'd ambushed him with then. There was no way of getting out of this without blowing them off completely, probably hurting Neytiri's feelings. He was stuck meeting them. And then Tsu'tey was going to think he'd broken his promise, not even waiting for him to be gone a day before seeking them out.

Neytiri grinned when she saw him, waving. "Isonali, there you are! Come! I want you to meet Grace!"

Biting down the urge to just snap "No thanks." and leave, Isonali got to his feet, Tsamui and Saheli following suit. Neither of them looked comfortable with this, Saheli openly frowning at the skypeople. Tsamui made an effort to look happy to see them but Isonali could tell it was more out of politeness than anything else.

For the most part the clan was on amicable terms with the sky people. But even then there was a great difference between being 'not hostile' and being totally comfortable around them. Ironically it was perhaps the children who were most attached to the skypeople, having grown friendly with them at the school, and their relationship served as a sort of bridge between the skypeople and the rest of the Na'vi, of whom many were still wary about these strangers.

"Neytiri," He said, greeting her with a polite nodded. It was more formal than they usually behaved, and it threw her a little. She blinked at him, looking a little hurt, her expression turning slightly guilty when she realized just why he was acting so cold.

But it was too late to turn back now. The skypeople were already advancing, a woman at the head of the group smiling as she stepped forward to meet him. She managed the Omaticaya greeting even better than he did, touching her fingers to her forehead and giving a solemn 'I see you' as if she'd been doing it all her life.

He returned the gesture hollowly, feeling clumsy in comparison. "I see you."

"I'm Grace Augustine." She said. "I'm the head scientist on the base." The rest of the skypeople followed suit, introducing themselves one by one. Not all were as practiced as Augustine, fumbling here and there over words and struggling with the difficult Na'vi pronunciation.

"It's nice to finally meet you."Augustine continued, smiling. "Neytiri has told us so much about you. To survive an encounter with a Thanator... You must be pretty brave." She meant it kindly, a compliment just to be friendly, but it rankled none the less.

Isonali sent an accusing look at Neytiri. Everyone in the clan knew that the skypeople most likely had something to do with his situation, making them even more protective of him than normal, him being injured as he was - more than once members of the clan had _just happened_ to step between him and the skypeople, blocking him from their sight - and yet Neytiri went around sharing his whole life story with them.

Neytiri didn't meet his eyes. His anger cooled a bit at that and he sighed. She hadn't meant bad. The skypeople were her friends, she trusted them. She hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong telling them about him.

Augustine and the other skypeople must have sensed the atmosphere, because Augustine's smile faded a little. Augustine didn't take offense though, continuing to smile politely even when Saheli make a scathing and totally unhelpful remark at something one of the skypeople said. With a bit less than half the clan, cautiously, willing to trust them and the rest openly suspicious and wary this was undoubtedly not the first time Augustine and the other skypeople had to navigate troubled waters, nor would it be the last.

They managed to keep up a very stilted conversation for about ten minutes. It mostly consisted of Augustine asking polite question, Isonali awkwardly answering while saying as little a possible and Neytiri trying to bridge the gap and drag them all in a friendlier direction.

To be fair it wasn't all bad. Despite Isonali's best efforts to dislike them and stonewall the skypeople he found himself interested in what some of the skypeople were saying.

"They came from another world," Neytiri explained, her smile and usual cheerful disposition returning soon after he'd stopped being so curt with her. "Beyond even Eywa's Sister in the sky."

"It's another planet," Augustine added, sounding more at ease now that the atmosphere had lightened a little. The other skypeople had managed to draw Tsamui and Saheli into discussion, a younger man with halting and awkward Na'vi even managing to capture Saheli's interest with a description of an ancient tribe of warrior women who used to live on their planet. "We call it Earth."

The word made his inside run cold. He knew that word, he knew he did. It was familiar, obvious, yet he'd never heard it before. It wasn't a Na'vi word, it wasn't anything any of them had ever said. So _how?_

Disconcerted and unsettled, he pried himself out of his head, pushing down the wave of panic and uncertainty to try and focus on what Augustine was saying. She and Neytiri were still talking. Neither seemed to have noticed his moment of panic.

"- it's four point three seven light years away." Augustine said. Neytiri nodded, her fascination obvious. "Even with our current technology it took us a bit more than six years to get here."

Neytiri turned to him, grinning. Isonali barely managed a shrug. Maybe another time he would have been fascinated but now the worry about _Earth_ weighed heavy on his mind. He couldn't muster the concentration to even pretend to be interested, just nodding blandly whenever either Augustine or Neytiri turned to look at him, waiting for his input on the conversation.

A few of the other skypeople had wander off around the surrounding area, poking at the plants and chattering enthusiastically to each other in their own language. Isonali froze, staring at them.

Abruptly he excused himself from the conversation, leaving Neytiri and the others staring after him, baffled, as he quickly fled from the scene. He scaled the inner paths of the hometree without stopping to talk to anyone, letting out a harsh breath of relief when he finally stepped out onto one of the outer branches of the hometree, the whole world dropping out around him.

Tsu'tey had brought him up here a couple of times after seeing his interest in the Ikran. From here you could see the colony where the bonded Ikran roosted in the higher branches of the hometree. They were barely more than flickers of colour from so far away, the roost still a good couple of hundred meters higher than his own branch, but sometimes he could see them flying past.

Isonali sat down, letting his legs stretch out along the comfortable curve of the branch without straying too close to the edge. There was something almost freeing about being so high up. It was part fear, the exhilaration of standing so close to the brink with the certainty that it would take only one slip to send him plummeting.

But part of its was just the sheer beauty of being so high up. From here he could see the entire jungle stretch below, see the curve of the river all the way to the valley where Tsu'tey had had his first hunt and to the horizon beyond that. You couldn't see it from below but there was always mist on the highest trees, clinging to the utmost branches in thin wisps of cloud. At the lake the fkio flock could be seen, a great blur of purple along the side of the lake until all at once they all took to their air, rising in a swarm and skimming acorss the surface of the lake to escape whatever had perturbed them.

Already now that he was away from the skypeople he was beginning to calm down a little, but it took a long time before he relaxed. And even then he couldn't help but stress about what it all meant.

He'd been getting better here, making good progress towards settling in with the clan, able to let go of some of his worries and just _live_. There was no pressure to do anything. No great expectations about who he was and what he should do. And it had been good. It had been so good, like lifting a weight off his shoulders he'd never known he'd been carrying.

Now it felt like he was standing on the knife's edge once more, all his worries and problems reemerging in a violent flood of panic and unease and coming crashing down around him once more. He brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest, just staring over the edge of the branch.

Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

By the time the evening meal came around he'd managed to pull himself together and achieve a state of somewhat calm. Still he didn't feel like going down for dinner. Neytiri would be there, the skypeople too probably, and he didn't feel like dealing with either of them again so soon.

The piercing cry of an Ikran made his ears flick not long after dusk fell, the sun falling below the horizon and the light giving way to the dim twilight that acted as night here. He ignored it at first, more than use to the passing cries of Ikran. It was only when the heavy beat of wings grew louder and not fainter that he looked up.

The Ikran wasn't heading up to the roost but heading right towards his branch, already its wings flared out to slow it for landing. As he watched it dropped down onto the branch, making a somewhat clumsy landing and almost falling before it got its claws into the wood and clambered up securely. It's rider slipped off it's back, releasing the tsaheylu and waving.

Isonali scrambled to his feet, grinning. "Tsu'tey!"

"I thought it was you I saw," Tsu'tey said. His Ikran made an hissing sort of noise, eyeing Isonali aggressively when he made to step forward. Tsu'tey quickly put a hand to it's neck, reassuring it.

"It's okay," he said finally, once the Ikran had calmed somewhat, leaning into his touch. It had quieted, hissing trailing off to nothing under Tsu'tey reassurance. "You can come closer."

Isonali approached slowly. He kept his eyes low, going so far as to dip into a slow bow. Creatures like this were intelligent and strong. If you didn't respect their strength, respect their nature and what they were capable of then you put both of you at risk. Ikran or hippogriff it was all the same.

Hippogriff? Where had that come from? He brushed the thought aside, making a note to look into it later. By now he had a vetriable list of things like that, names and phrases that came out of nowhere and that he couldn't never quite explain.

When he rose from the bow the Ikran was still watching him. The hostility had left its expression. It blinked at him once, clear eyelids drawing across to cover its eyes for a second, before turning its head away. It wasn't anywhere near what you would call friendly but it tolerated him and that was enough.

Isonali stepped forward, making sure to keep a good few respectful feet between him and the Ikran none the less. Tolerance or not he didn't want to know what it would do it he went to touch it.

Tsu'tey smiled, keeping a hand on the Ikran's side, proud as anything. "His name is Ienrra."

Up close the Ikran was even more impressive. He's large even for an Ikran, with strong, sharp teeth and a good set of claws. A fine male. The colour of his hide is almost ironic, the bright patches of sunny yellow visible even in the dim utterly out of place in his otherwise intimidating appearance.

The Ikran had turned back to inspect him while he'd been occupied admiring it's colouring but when Isonali notices him watching he turns away again, snubbing him with a very purposeful air.

"Well you named him right,"Isonali said. "I don't think I've ever seen a creature more proud. Though..." He added, smirking a little, "I suppose it fits. Any Ikran of yours was sure to be just as proud."

Tsu'tey huffs, rolling his eyes. "Now you exaggerate."

Ienrra puts up with Tsu'tey's petting and Isonali's inspection a while longer then steps away from Tsu'tey's hand with a huff, twisting its long neck to make a fond cooing noise at Tsu'tey before dropping off the edge of the branch. A moment later it comes soaring up the other side, wings held wide and beating as it rose to join to roost high above.

They lingered up there, Tsu'tey joining him to watch the fires far below. By then the bottom of the hometree was glow with light as the clan went through the last motions of the day, gathering around fires after the evening meal to spend time together after a long days work.

It didn't take long before Isonali was quietly pouring out the whole affair with the skypeople. Tsu'tey was frowning almost from the beginning but he didn't say to reproach Isonali is meeting with the skypeople. It felt good to get it all out there and let it all bottle up and fester. Freeing, somehow, as if just talking helped even when there was nothing Tsu'tey could do fix this.

"Neytiri is naive sometimes,"Tsu'tey said, sounding more apologetic than anything. "She knows some of the skypeople who are nice and has trouble seeing that not all of them may be the same. I should have expected this to happen."

"It wasn't just the word."Isonali admitted quietly. He almost didn't dare say it. It was just another thing to set him apart, another reminder he was a stranger among the clan. "When they were speaking- Not Na'vi. Their other language... I could understand what they were saying."

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE**

That's all I've written so far I'm afraid, so it may be a while until the next update. I've got to actually write the next chapter after all~

(◕ ◡ ◕) Don't worry though! I've got a firm idea of where I'm going next with this and I'm gonna take advantage of the holidays to try and keep writing! (Stay with me motivation! I need you!)

As always if there's anything that stands out that you particularly liked, or any areas you think could use work please don't hesitate to leave a comment. In fact I encourage you to. There's nothing better as a writer than hearing people like your work, even more so when you say which bit you liked. Don't be shy! I love to hear from you guys.


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